The Grass is Always Greener on the Other Side
by Merlin71
Summary: Shep whump post Trio events. Sam returns to the SGC for a few weeks, leaving Shep in charge of Atlantis. Things don’t go as planned.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **To anyone who's commented on my last two fics. I've got your comments but the site is disinclined to let me respond. Grrrr. So I'd like to do a group THANK YOU to everyone who commented. And another THANK YOU to anyone who responds to this fic. Just in case I still can't reply. You're all wonderful!

TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
RATING: T  
DISCLAIMER: Not mine  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Shep whump post Trio events. Sam returns to the SGC for a few weeks, leaving Shep in charge of Atlantis. Things don't go as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part one**

John was sitting in Carter's office, behind her desk, eyeing the laptop with disdain. With the Colonel out of commission with a broken leg, John was charged with taking over her duties until Keller released her back to duty. Estimated release date was three to four days. John sighed. He really hated paper work. He hated sitting at this desk more, because being there was a painful reminder that Elizabeth wasn't.

Shaking off such thoughts, John made himself tap the enter key and start reading reports. Carter was off duty, but she still wanted to be updated, which meant John had to slog through the daily reports. He wondered if it would be cheating to have Lorne do it then give him the cliff notes. But as tempting as that idea was, John knew he wouldn't pass the buck. Carter trusted him to do the job, so he would do it. However, he was going to need bout three more cups of coffee if he was going to stay awake long enough to get through twenty-three more reports.

Pushing away from the desk, John stood up and took a moment to stretch the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He'd already been at this for four hours and it promised to be a long day. Maybe he'd grab a sandwich to go with his coffee. The hollow feeling in his stomach reminded John that he'd forgotten to stop for breakfast. Although it wasn't so much that he had forgotten as he'd ended up working through breakfast.

After only managing to get three hours of sleep, John had been awakened by Lt. Bays to mediate a situation between one of the botanists and one of Rodney's engineers. Since Rodney needed his sleep, thanks to the stress of what he called - being trapped in a big hole with two annoying women for what felt like days - John had handled the argument himself. Which had to do with the botanist accusing the engineer of stealing a plant. Which turned out to be the engineer actually stealing a few rose-like blooms to offer to the botanist as a sign of his affection. But it had taken 4 hours for the engineer to fess up.

Carter had gotten a kick out of the story when John had radioed her from her office. She had been willing to let him forgo documenting the event so, officially, it never happened. But John had still missed breakfast.

Heading for the door, he hadn't taken one step out when his radio beeped. John sighed and tapped the ear piece. "Sheppard here."

"It's Colonel Carter," Came the reply.

"Everything okay, Colonel?" John countered, because she sounded a bit tense.  
There was a moment of silence before she replied, "Everything is fine. But I need you to come to the infirmary ASAP. We need to talk, John."

That sounded serious and John found himself running scenarios through his head. But he couldn't think of anything he might have done that would get him yelled at. "Be right there," he responded, then he tapped off.

Five minutes later he was standing next to Carter's bed. She had a private corner, curtained off, and she was propped up against several pillows, with another pillow holding her heavily-casted leg. She was smiling, which was a good sign, and gesturing to her open laptop that was perched on her blanket-clad thighs.

"Thanks for your prompt response, John," she stated.

"Thanks for the rescue," he countered, a bit cheekily.

Carter chuckled. "Daily reports?"

John nodded, hands clasped behind his back and rocking slightly on his heels. "So…what's up? You sounded a bit odd on the radio. Some type of emergency?" He tried to glimpse what was on her laptop screen, but the angle was all wrong and all he could see was blue screen and a bit of glare.

"There is an emergency of sorts," Carter allowed. "But not here. I'm needed at SGC. I have knowledge of a project they're involved in so I'll be heading back in the morning."

"I see." John didn't bother to ask what the project was. Carter was as much of a genius as McKay, so he could guess he wouldn't understand what she was talking about. "How long will you be gone?"

Carter shrugged, wincing a bit as her bruises protested the movement. "Upwards to six weeks, maybe longer. Which actually is advantageous to everyone. I don't need mobility for the project the way I do here on Atlantis."

John knew what she was saying and she had a point. For all she was technically a pencil pusher now, running Atlantis meant being able to get around the city as needed. "They sending Caldwell in your place?" he asked, figuring the man was the logical choice.

"You'll be running things while I'm gone, John," Carter replied, watching his reaction and cutting him off with the wave of one hand before he could respond. "Don't look so surprised. "It won't be the first time you've been in charge. You did a hell of a job running the place before I got the position."

"I ran things out of necessity," John reminded her.

Carter nodded, her expression letting him know she understood his position. "Doesn't change the fact that you did good and that you were on the short list. I know I'll be leaving Atlantis in good hands. It makes it easier to go, knowing I can trust you to take care of things."

John appreciated her faith in him, but he really didn't want to deal with the added responsibility. "You know, Rodney would love the chance to run things. He does bossy well."

"I want to come back to the City in the same condition I left it in," Carter countered, leaving no doubt as to her meaning and her concerns.

"Rodney might surprise you," John continued pleading his case, because he could handle the job for the couple of days while Carter was in the infirmary, but the idea of six weeks in charge left a bad taste in his mouth and his gut coiling into knots. Like he'd told her. He'd done the job before out of necessity, but he'd prefer not to be in that position again. And the few other times he'd run things in her place since she'd started, it had only been for a day or two at a shot.

Offering up puppy-dog eyes, John made one last attempt at getting out of the job. "I still have nightmares about the paperwork. I really suck at that. Think of all the reports you'll have to fix when you get back.

Carter studied John, her gaze intense. "I need you to do this for me, John. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"Crap," John muttered, because he knew he'd lost the battle. "No more than six weeks though, right?" He wanted her promise on that one.

"That's the plan," Carter replied, narrowing her gaze at him. "But we both know how things can change. But I'll make every attempt to be back in six weeks."

Since he knew Carter would keep her word, John nodded. "Okay then. Good luck with your project."

Carter looked relieve. "Thank you. I'll be released to my quarters around dinner time. Why don't you bring some trays and I'll update you on everything you need to know."

"Sounds like a plan," John allowed. "I'll let you rest." He gave a mock salute then he turned and made his way out of the infirmary.

OoO

After leaving Carter, John headed for the messhall. He wasn't exactly hungry anymore, but he knew he needed to get something in his stomach besides coffee. Although he fully intended to grab another cup, or three, to take back to the office.

When he got there he went through the line and grabbed a turkey sandwich and an apple, along with a cup of fresh coffee. Turning with his tray, he spotted Teyla, Ronon and Rodney in the corner. Ronon was waving him over.

"Hey guys," John drawled as he reached them. He sat down and reached for his coffee mug first.

"How is Colonel Carter doing?" Teyla queried.

John stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you psychic now? How did you know I was with the Colonel?"

Teyla laughed softly, eyes flashing with amusement. "I went to visit her and you were already there and Jennifer informed me that Colonel Carter wished to have a private conversation with you."

"Oh." John realized he was way more tired than he had thought, because he normally would have figured out such a scenario on his own. He knew he was wound up about being in charge again. He wasn't even sure why it was bugging him so much this time.

"Why did Sam want to have a private conversation with you?" Rodney interjected, looking irritated.

John sighed and took a long swig of coffee before replying. "She's heading back to SGC for six weeks and she wanted to inform me that I'm in charge of Atlantis until she gets back."

Teyla looked concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"They need her for some project she was involved with in the past," John replied. "And she figures she's more useful there until she heals."

"Why are you in charge?" Rodney demanded. "Why is it always you?"

John stared at his coffee, pondering that very same thing. After a moment he reached for his sandwich and slowly unwrapped it. "Can't answer that, Rodney," he said before he took a bite.

Rodney glared at him. "I should be in charge. I'd be good at it!" He had his arms crossed over his chest and was practically pouting. But he spoiled the effect by wincing and hissing "Ow!" While shaking his, still bandaged, hands.

"Go for it," John replied around a mouthful of turkey. "If you can talk Carter into it, be my guest. I'd prefer not to do it."

"Seriously?" Rodney looked surprised by his response.

"Seriously," John drawled, nodding. He started to take another bite of his sandwich but dropped it back to his plate. He really wasn't all that hungry now, especially since his head was starting to throb. The almost headache he'd started out the day with was threatening to become full blown. "Seriously, Rodney," John confirmed. "You can be in charge. Clear it with Carter and the job is yours."

Rodney scowled at him. "She won't put me in charge. But you can do it after she leaves."

It was tempting, but John shook his head. Stupid move. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the pain, as he replied, "Doesn't work that way and you know it."

"It's not fair," Rodney grumbled. "Why won't she put me in charge. I'd be great at it."

"Says you," Ronon commented, around a mouthful of sandwich. Which looked to be his third, if the wrappers on his plate were any indication.

Rodney glowered at him, then turned back to John. "Why are you so unhappy? You get to run the place. Again!"

John just shrugged and picked up his apple, buffing it against his shirt sleeve. "It's not that much fun, Rodney. Mostly just a lot of paper work and listening to complaints."

"You're just mad because it means you can't go off world much," Ronon interjected, waving a cookie in John's direction.

"That too," John confirmed, because that was a big part of why he didn't like running Atlantis. It meant being stuck behind the proverbial desk, instead of out and about with his team. Running the military and leading his team were one thing. Being in charge of Atlantis was just one giant headache.

Teyla reached out and touched his arm, drawing John's attention. She was calm and smiling warmly at him. "You do well at running the city, John. And it is only for a short while."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. And I'm sure the six weeks will fly by." He took one bite from his apple, finished off his coffee then stood up and grabbed his tray. "I've got an inventory check to do so I'll see you guys later." John locked eyes with Ronon. "You gonna be around for some sparring?"

"Be in the gym all day," Ronon replied.

"Good. See you later." John waved to his companions then strode off. He dumped his tray then headed for the nearest transporter. He was going to need a handful of Tylenol to get him through the rest of this day.

OoO

Keller made John sit through a quick exam, frowning a bit when she took his blood pressure. John didn't think it was because of the reading so much as the fact that she was having a difficult time working the equipment, since her palms were still bandaged.

John decided to pretend like he didn't notice. When she was done he slid off the bed and asked, "So, can I have the aspirin?"

"You can," Keller allowed. "And it probably wouldn't hurt if you took them then laid down for a quick nap. You look tired, Colonel."

John nodded carefully, mindful of his aching head. "That's what happens when up you get called in after three hours of sleep. I'll catch up tonight." At least he hoped he would. Going to bed early and getting a good eight hours was certainly on his to do list for today.

Keller narrowed her gaze at him, as if uncertain she could trust his word. But after a moment she turned away and rummaged in a nearby cabinet. She turned back and held out two, tin foil, packets of white pills. "Take one every six hours and if the headache isn't gone by the time you're done, come back and see me."

"You're giving me the good stuff," John commented, as he studied the packets before tucking them in his pocket. He would down one the moment he left and could grab some bottled water. He wasn't desperate enough to try dry swallowing horse pills.

"I know you're going to have a busy few weeks ahead of you, Colonel," Keller countered, gesturing over her should at the bed in the corner, where Colonel Carter was presently asleep. "I know that she's leaving in the morning and that you'll be in charge again."

John sighed. "Yeah…don't remind me. Technically, I'm already in charge again."

Keller let an amused smile curve her lips. "You don't look happy about it."

"You're very perceptive," John drawled, waggling a finger at her. "I'd rather be out in the field. Running this city is a tad bit out of my comfort zone."

"I know the feeling." Keller looked suddenly lost in thought, but shook herself out of it quickly enough. "I wasn't ready to be put in this position. It was a really crappy way to get a job I didn't even want."

John was all too famliar with that particular scenario. He had come to terms with having executed Sumner four years ago. He'd only done what needed to be done. Heading the military contingent on Atlantis had been a by product of his actions. At that point in his life, he had expected his future to involve nothing more than playing air taxi to higher ups in Antarctica. The thought of being in charge of anything hadn't even crossed his mind. But in the past four years he had learned to accept hi position and the responsibilities that came with it.

Smiling wryly, John reached out and clapped Keller on the shoulder. "It gets easier with time," he assured her. Then he felt suddenly lost in his own thoughts and memories, as Carson's face materialized in his head.

There was a long moment of heavy silence between him and Keller, until John willed Carson's image to shatter. "You're doing a good job here," he told her. "Carson would be proud." John knew that the Scotsman had considered Keller to be a protégé and he'd often mentioned to John how she'd be taking over for him some day. There had been times when Carson thought hard and long about returning home to Scotland and his mother.

John hated the fact that his friend had gone home in a wooden box.

"Colonel?"

Keller's voice startled John out of his reverie. "Sorry. Um…I'm gonna go now. Thanks for the drugs, Doc."

She smiled and nodded. "Thanks for the pep talk. And remember what I said about coming back if the headache persists."

"Will do." John waved at her then made a brisk exit. He made a quick pitstop at his room, grabbing a bottle of water and downing one packet of pills. He let himself drop down onto his bed for a moment, massaging his temples and willing the pills to work fast.

Suprisingly, John felt the pressure lifting, thereby easing the ache in his temples. Or maybe it was nothing more than a simple case of mind over matter. He didn't care which it was, he was just happy it was going away.

Remembering Keller's suggestion of a nap, John decided it couldn't hurt to lie down for a few minutes. But even as he shifted around to lift his legs up on the bed, his radio beeped. Swallowing a sigh, John tapped it and answered, "Sheppard here."

Zelenka's voice crackled in his ear. "Colonel…we have issue in Lab 4."

"What kind of issue?" John countered, rising from the bed and heading for the door.

"Bad kind of issue," Zelenka squeaked, sounding breathless.

John got a bad feeling as he picked up speed, jumping into the nearest transporter. "Define bad," he ordered, his tone sharp as his insides twisted.

There was the sound of voices in the background, someone shouting, then Zelenka was back. "There might be a slight explosion," he blurted out. "Small one."

"An explosion?" John couldn't believe what he was hearing and - hello - his headache was back full force. "What the hell is going on, Zelenka?" Stepping out of the transporter, John started running. But even as he rounded the corner, he heard a boom. "Zelenka?" He ran faster, reaching the lab as the door opened and smoke curled outward. A man in blue stumbled out. One of Rodney's scientists. John blanked on the name as he grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him away to the other side of the corridor.

"You okay?" he queried, easing the man to the floor.

The scientist nodded, coughing too hard to speak.

John tapped his ear piece, calling for a med team, taking time only to explain that there was an explosion in lab 4. He then heard Rodney's voice in his ear.

"Zelenka blew up lab four?" Rodney sounded furious. "I told him not to touch anything!"

"Bitch at him later," John snapped. "I need the med team now. I'm going in for Zelenka." Tapping off, John knelt beside the scientist. "How many others are in there?"

The man sucked in a breath, holding in a cough long enough to reply. "Just…Zelenka."

John nodded, clapping the guy on the shoulder. "Stay here. Help is on the way." With that he stood up, sucked in a lungful of air, then ran into the room.

It was hard to see through the haze of smoke which was curling upward in thick coils from what looked like some lumpy device on the floor. John lifted one arm, tucking his nose in the crook of his elbow, and peered about the room, searching for any sign of Doc Z.

A moment later his eyes started watering and John realized he was pretty much flying blind, so to speak. "Radek!" he shouted, regretting it the moment he had to suck in air and smoke was pulled into his lungs. John coughed, fought for a breath to hold, and plunged deeper into the room. His eyes caught a flash of blue and he moved towards it.

Stumbling forward, John nearly tripped over something solid only to realize it was Zelenka. He knelt down, fumbling for a pulse, and letting the soft moan that reached his ears reassure him that the scientist was alive. Not able to spare the breath for talking, John simply grabbed an arm and hauled Zelenka to his feet. When the Czech turned out to be a dead weight, John hauled him into a fireman's carry.

"Crap," he muttered to himself, when he realized he couldn't see the doorway. Going by instinct, John headed towards where he thought the exit was. He hoped like hell he was going the right way because he was staggering more and more with each step and gray dots were starting to dance before his eyes. Whatever caused the smoke, it wasn't from a regular fire. John, absently, noticed there weren't any flames.

"Sheppard!"

Relief washed through John as he recognized Ronon's bellow. He sucked in a breath to shout out a reply, but coughed instead. The gray dots were turning black.

Stumbling toward the sound of Ronon's voice, John blinked hard, willing the darkness to hold off until he was out of the room. Then suddenly there were hands on him, pulling him along, pulling Zelenka off his shoulder and John sank to his knees. He heard voices babbling all around him even as he closed his eyes and let the black dots eat the gray.

He woke up coughing, face covered by an oxygen mask, Zelenka foremost on his mind. Shoving the mask aside, John peeled his eyes open and saw blurry whiteness. A few blinks and the infirmary walls came into focus. He started to sit up but his chest hurt and hands were there, pushing against his shoulders.

John looked up into Ronon's face. "Zelenka…." It was all he was able to say before the coughing hit him, sucking air out of his lungs with the force of it. The oxygen mask was pressed back over his face and suddenly Keller was there, checking his vitals before pushing Ronon aside so she could glare at John.

"Dr. Zelenka is fine," she said firmly. "Now I want you to relax and leave the mask on. You suffered smoke inhalation and I'm keeping you overnight for obervation. Do as I tell you and I'll be able to release you in the morning.." That said, she turned on her heel and strode off.

Ronon moved back to John's side. "Better listen to her," he rumbled. "She's kinda mean."

John nodded and let his head lean back against the pillows. His temples throbbed a bit, but not as bad as he would have expected. Mostly his lungs felt a bit like they were burning when he inhaled, and his chest felt tight. But the oxygen did help and he had suffered smoke inhalation before, so he knew he would feel better soon enough. He was just glad Zelenka was okay. Later he'd have to get in touch with Rodney to find out the details of what had happened. For now he was content to doze.

Which he did for four hours, waking up to find Carter sitting in a chair next to his bed, a pair of crutches propped up beside her. John frowned at her as he got his bearings, first off noticing he was on a nasal canula now. Second, he noticed the IV taped to the back of his left hand. He didn't remember having that before, or maybe he just hadn't noticed.

"Keller put that in to help keep you hydrated and to give you some pain meds," Carter spoke up, as she watched John fiddle with the line.

"Ah." John stopped fiddling and studied his CO. "How are you feeling? I see you're up and about."

Carter smiled and nodded. "I feel better. I'm sore, but I'm also on the good stuff." She revealed the latter in a stage whisper, pretending to shift her gaze in case someone might be lurking to hear her.

It made John grin back at her. He liked the fact that Carter had a sense of humor and wasn't shy about sharing it. "You ready to go tomorrow?"

"I'm starting to have second thoughts," Carter confessed. "Are you going to be feeling up to running things tomorrow?"

"I'm fine." It was a reflex response, but John meant it. When Carter shot him a skeptical look, he hurried to reassure her. "Keller said I'll be released in the morning and I'm already feeling lots better. What happened was just a typical day in the Pegasus galaxy. And, sadly, if it comes right down to it, it wouldn't be the first time I've run the place from an infirmary bed." Not something he was happy to admit too, but a fact was a fact.

Carter looked convinced, and relieved. "Good. I'm glad you're feeling better, John. That was one hell of a rescue. Zelenka is very grateful."

John snorted. "Yeah, well I doubt he'll feel all that grateful once I'm done reading him the riot act."

"Rodney beat you to it," Carter replied, chuckling. "Although I don't think Zelenka was all that impressed. I'm pretty sure he was cursing Rodney in Czech and I'm guessing there were a few threats in there."

"No doubt." John was amused, knowing full well how Dr. Z and Rodney behaved. He started to laugh right along with Carter, only to choke into a coughing fit that left his chest aching and his throat feeling raw.

Keller must have been lurking close by, because she was suddenly there, rubbing his back to help ease him through it, then offering water when he could breathe again.

John took a few sips, sighing with relief, then he leaned back against the pillows and croaked, "That sucked."

"Sounded like it did," Carter commiserated. She had gotten to her feet and was precariously perched on her crutches, looking like she wanted to help, but totally at a loss as to how.

Keller checked John's IV then turned to Carter. "It's dinner time so you need to get back to bed, Colonel."

Carter nodded. "I'll talk to you in the morning, John." She waved then made her way out of his corner, moving slowly and awkwardly.

Keller then turned to John. "Feeling up to some soup and toast?"

"Sure, sounds good," John replied, even though he didn't feel hungry. He did take a few more sips of water, which felt good. He thought he might even try to take a cat nap while he waited on dinner, only to hear a famliar heavy footstep and he turned his head to see Ronon striding towards him with Teyla and Rodney close behind.

The Satedan was carrying two trays, while Teyla and Rodney each had one. Setting one tray on the rolling table, Ronon grinned at John. "We brought dinner."

John could see that, so he nodded. "Thanks."

"Are you feeling up to company, John," Teyla queried, as she moved to his side and smiled at him.

"Sure," John drawled, letting her pat his hand. "But you know I'm fine, right. You don't have to sit with me."

Rodney snorted. "Of course we know that. Personally, I'm just hanging out here and waiting for Zelenka to wake up so I can yell at him again."

John grinned as Ronon rolled the table over his lap and he reached for his spoon. "You'll have to update me on what happened in the lab. I'm guessing some ancient doohickey gone bad?"

"Something like that," Rodney allowed, before taking a bite of potatoes. He swallowed quickly and waved his fork as he announced, "I talked to Sam about me running Atlantis."

"Oh?" John wasn't really surprised to hear that. He'd figured Rodney would at least ask. To be honest, he had rather hoped Carter would agree to it. But given the conversation he'd just had with her, he knew that was a bust. Still, he let Rodney say his piece while he concentrated on his soup. It was pretty much just broth, but it felt smooth and soothing going down his throat.

Rodney nodded and continued. "She turned me down. Flat. She said you have more experience."

"Which he does," Ronon interjected, as he speared a chunk of meat on his fork before tearing off a big bite.

"And how did he get that experience?" Rodney countered, looking aggrieved. Before anyone could respond, he answered his own question. "Because he's been allowed to run the place. Hell, even Teyla's had her moment in the sun. It's not fair."

Teyla, ever the peace - maker, was quick to intervene. "You helped to run things with Colonel Caldwell, when Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir were…possessed. And you did a wonderful job, Rodney. Do not sell yourself short."

Rodney was nodding. "That's right, and I did a great job. See? I should totally be in charge this time."

"I'm sure Colonel Carter has her reasons for why she has chosen Colonel Sheppard over you," Teyla countered, trying her best to appease Rodney.

"She does have her reasons," Carter announced, as she clunked her way towards them. She looked a bit guilty as she faced them all. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." She glanced at Rodney as she continue. "You're kinda loud."

Rodney scowled at her. "I would do a great job running this place and I'm not going to be quiet about it."

Carter grimaced. "It's not about that, Rodney. But you have enough responsibility here. When something goes wrong with Atlantis and her systems, I need all of your attention to be focused there. I'm trusting you to keep things running as smooth as always, and to be on top of anything that could go wrong." Her tone was soft and sincere as she spoke.

John believed she meant what she said, but he had something to add that might cheer Rodney up a bit. "I don't see any reason why we can't kind of, co-run the place."

"That would be fine," Carter allowed, giving John a small nod of approval. "But with the understanding that John has the final say in things."

"Fine by me," Rodney allowed, with a shrug. "If something goes wrong, I can blame him."

John wasn't sure he liked the sound of that, but he did nothing more than smile his agreement.

Ronon grabbed a chair for Carter and they sat around chatting for the next half hour, until Keller sent Carter to her bed, and chased the others away so John could rest. He was happy to curl up and close his eyes. His chest still felt a bit tight, and he felt bone weary, but he was pretty sure he'd be feeling much better in the morning and he needed to be up early to see Carter off.

As he drifted to sleep John sent up a little prayer, to whatever deity might be listening, for smooth sailing ahead.

THE END…of part one


	2. Chapter 2

Once again I'm having problems with trying to respond to comments. So to everyone who has responded to part one and will respond to part 2, YOU ARE AWESOME! And thank you so very much.

_**Fic: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy...part 2**_  
TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy…part 2  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 2**

When John woke up he was pleased to discover that the nasal canula and the IV were both gone. He shifted and felt a bit achy, and there was still a slight throb of pain in his temples, but he felt better than he expected and that was a giant plus.

"Good morning, Colonel," Keller offered in greeting, as she strode over to him. She was smiling brightly and looking pleased.

"Morning," John replied, his voice a bit raspy. So he reached for the ever present water glass and took a few sips. Much better. He set the glass back down, cleared his throat, and got straight to the point. "I'm out of here, right?"

Keller nodded. "You're out of here. " But when he made a move to get out of bed, she waved him back. "But before you go, I want your word that you'll be back if you feel an distress of any kind. Shortness of breath, dizziness, headache. Any symptom at all. If something feels wrong, I want to know about it."

John winced a bit when she mentioned headache as a symptom, because he'd suffered more than his fair share of those since coming to Atlantis. He was pretty sure everyone did, including Keller herself. However, he was wise enough not to mention that to her. Instead he simply nodded. "I'll let you know if something's wrong." He meant it too. Although he was pretty sure her idea of wrong didn't coincide with his own. But that was yet another fact he would keep to himself. It was one of those - what she didn't know wouldn't hurt either one of them - scenarios. 

"Okay. You can go then." Keller didn't sound happy about it, but he let him push the covers off and stand up this time.

"Thanks, Doc." John was grinning as he stood up. He felt himself sway just a tiny bit. A movement so slight he hid it easily by locking his knees and leaning against the bed for a moment, while it passed. Then he was pushing away and glancing about for his clothes.

Keller watched him a moment, apparently catching on to what he was doing. "Oh, I sent your things to the laundry. I can send someone to your room or you can change when you get there."

John opted for changing back in his room. It wouldn't be the first time he'd returned to his quarters in scrubs. In fact he had two sets of the damn things stuffed in the bottom drawer of his dresser. "I'll return these freshly laundered," he promised, tugging at the hem of the white scrubs . Stepping around Keller, John headed for the chair in the corner, where he spotted his boots tucked beneath it. He could live with the scrubs, but no way was he walking back to his room barefoot.  
"I hope I don't see you back here for a while, Colonel," Keller commented as she watched him stomp his feet into his boots. There was a touch of irony in her tone and she was smirking at him.

"We're on the same page there, Doc," John assured her. Boots in place, he offered a wave and headed for the exit. He noticed Carter's bed was empty and it spurred him on. Only to stop short when he caught sight of Zelenka in the last bed to his left.

Doing an about face, John strode over to him. Zelenka was wearing a nasal canula and had an IV. John nodded in sympathy. "How are you feeling, Dr. Z?"

"Better than dead," The Czech replied, looking a bit abashed. "Before you begin yelling, Colonel, please to know that my ears are still ringing from Rodney's abuse."

"I'm not going to yell at you," John assured him. "Just be more careful in the future."

Zelenka nodded. "I have put on my to do list. Number one priority."

John was glad to hear that. He didn't like his people getting hurt. And he considered every person in Atlantis to be his people. The people he had sworn to protect. "So, when do you get out of here?"

"Tomorrow, if I continue to show improvement." Zelenka looked resigned. "You are well, Colonel? I see you are being released."

"Yeah. I'm good." John was pleased to be telling the truth for once. Not that he made it a habit to lie about his condition, but sometimes fibbing was easier. "Carter's leaving in a bit, so I'm heading out to get ready."

Zelenka plucked at the blankets. "I heard she is leaving for few weeks. You will do well in her place. Just do not let Rodney run amuck. He has mentioned that you and he will be running things together."

John winced. He'd sort of forgotten about that conversation. Not that he was going to go back on his word or anything, but it did mean Rodney would be hovering around him and no doubt making something of a nuisance of himself. For which John had no one but himself to blame, so he would suck it up and deal. Maybe Rodney would surprise them both. McKay had a way of doing that. "Rodney will be fine," John promised, hoping his words wouldn't bite him on the ass in the near future.

A glance at his watch showed it was early, but he wanted a shower, and a cup of coffee before Carter stepped through the gate. So he patted Zelenka on the arm and wished him well. "Feel better. I have to …you know…" He jerked his thumb towards the exit.

Zelenka made shooing motions at him. "Yes, of course. Go forth and lead."

"Right." John waved and headed off, his thoughts preoccupied with what the day might bring as he strode down the corridor.

Unlike Elizabeth, Carter didn't give him updates or a list of things to keep and eye on when she was gone. The Colonel left notes on her computer and simply handed over the reins, fully expecting him to handle whatever happened until her return. John hadn't let her down so far, and he had no intention of doing so this time.

The moment he reached his room he started shucking the scrubs. Ten minutes later he was getting dressed in his uniform and tying on his boots. Five minutes after that he was in the messhall grabbing coffee and a muffin. He ate half on the way to Carter's office. She was sitting behind her desk, staring off into space when he knocked on the door frame.

It drew her attention to him and she smiled as she waved him in. "Have a seat, John. How are you feeling? You look better."

"I feel better, thanks," he replied, setting his mug and half eaten muffin on her desk before taking the chair that was kitty corner. He'd take care of them later. For now he noticed a duffle bag sitting next to her crutches, which were leaning against her chair arm. "You all ready to go?"

"I think so." Carter leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something."

John grinned. He knew that feeling all too well. "Whatever it is, you'll figure it out the moment you step through the gate. Just remember you'll be back soon enough." He said it as much to cheer himself up as to remind her not to linger back on Earth.

Eyeing him through a narrowed gaze, Carter seemed to get the hint. "At the very least, I'm sure I'll be able to replace temporarily, if it turns out to be something important. That said…" She broke off as she struggled to her feet, juggling the crutches for a moment until she could secure them under her armpits. "Anything I can bring back, Colonel?"

"My stash of Hershey bars is getting low," John confessed. He'd loved the candy bars since he was a kid. It was his one weakness when it came to sweets. Otherwise he could take them or leave them.

"I'll bring back the biggest bag I can find," Carter promised.

"Appreciate it." John rose smoothly to his own feet, feeling a twinge in his lungs and a bit of a throb in his temples, but otherwise he was sound enough. Stepping over to Carter's side, he bent down and scooped up her duffel bag. "I'll see you out, Colonel."

Carter nodded, looking grateful. "Thank you, Colonel." She grinned at him before clunking past him towards the door.

They made their slow way down the steps, John grabbing one crutch and offering her an arm to reach the bottom. "How the hell did you get up the stairs?" he queried, as he watched her struggling with each step. He could tell she was hurting and he hoped she was smart enough to take it easy when she got to SGC.

"Sheer determination," Carter confessed. "I wanted to write up a few notes and clear a few things up before I left."

"Take it easy for a while," John reminded her, as subtly as he could.

"I intend to take pills and lie down for a few hours the moment I cross over," Carter replied, as they came to a stop in front of the gate. "And now I'd like to hand over the, metaphorical, keys to the city, Colonel. I hope it's an easy watch.."

John nodded at that. "You and me both. Shouldn't be too bad. Since Rodney wants to help I'm going to introduce him to dizzying masses of paper work involved."

Carter chuckled. "I'm sure he'll have that corrected, sorted and filed by the end of the day. And I mean the whole six weeks worth."

"One can hope." John was smiling, but he felt his gut clench. Suddenly he had a bad feeling about her going and, more than anything, he wanted to beg Carter to stay. But he didn't say a word as she turned awkwardly and yelled out to Chuck,

"Dial the gate!"

"Yes, sir...er…ma'am!" Chuck replied, doing as commanded.

A moment later the gate activated and time was up.

John forced a smile. "Good luck with your mission, Colonel," he offered.

"Same to you," Carter replied, before taking back her crutch making her way to the ring. Just before she stepped through, she turned and saluted.

With a nod, John returned her salute, before watching her disappear. He waved a hand at Chuck and a moment later the gate shut down. John grimaced. The clench of his gut wasn't easing. Silently reminding himself that he didn't need to predict trouble, since it always seemed to find him on it's own, John turned to head for Carter's office and almost plowed into McKay.

Who had appeared beside him as if by magic. "So, what's on the agenda?" Rodney queried, bouncing on his heels and looking excited.

Before John could reply, Keller appeared on the steps. She had a determined look on her face as she made her way towards him. "Doc. How's it going?" John asked, as she reached him.

"Fine so far," She replied, turning to stare at the gate. "I take it Colonel Carter has left?"

"You just missed her," John said.

Keller shrugged. "I already said my goodbye's, and warned her to take it easy. Which I'm sure she'll do."

John could tell she was trying to make a point here, and that she was focusing said point on him. "Rest easy, Doc," John drawled. "I'm behaving myself."

"Did you have breakfast?" Keller scanned him from head to toe, as if hoping she could see inside him to check for herself.

John almost laughed at the thought, but swallowed his chuckle to reply, "I had breakfast ." There was no reason to confess that it was only half a muffin and some coffee.

Luckily, Keller seemed ready to take him at his word. "Good. Now remember to take it easy for a few days. Rest when you feel tired and don't forget to eat regular meals. Keeping your body properly fueled is more important than most people realize."

"I couldn't agree with you more, Doc," John stated, and he meant it. He didn't always eat as properly as he should, but he tried to eat healthy and keep himself strong. His team, and everyone on Atlantis, deserved his best and he did what he could to give that to them.

"I'll make sure he eats and naps," Rodney interjected, sounding annoyed and looking aggrieved. He made shooing motions at Keller with both hands. "The Colonel and I have a lot of important work to do, running Atlantis and all. So you can go now." He continued shooing until Keller took the hint.

At least she was laughing as she turned to leave. "Remember to report any symptoms to me, Colonel!" She called over her shoulder.

"Will do!" John replied, before turning to Rodney and rolling his eyes. "What was that all about?"

"That was about making her go away, and you're welcome," Rodney replied, before grabbing John by the elbow and hauling him up the stairs to Carter's office.

John let himself be dragged, but he shook Rodney's hand off as the cleared the doorway. Moving to sit behind the desk, he studied his friend. "So, ready to run Atlantis, Rodney?" John figured he could have some fun with this, while getting necessary work done at the same time. Which would be beneficial to one and all in various and sundry ways. John knew that Rodney could easily let being in charge get away with him and turn a bit mad with power, but for the most part he knew that Rodney could be very effective in many areas, and John was willing to let him help and let him learn. Running Atlantis wasn't a cake walk, which John had learned out of necessity.

"I run Atlantis every day," Rodney responded, looking offended. "You do realize that I'm the one that keeps her up and running. That I'm the one everyone turns to when something goes wrong. I'm the one - "

"I get it," John broke in, cutting Rodney off at the pass. "We couldn't function without you, McKay." He smirked as he said it, but he meant what he said. John knew what Rodney contributed to Atlantis. He, better than anyone, knew how important his friend was. How much he was needed. It was why John worked so hard to keep McKay alive. The bonus point was that he genuinely liked the guy.

Rodney glared at John for a moment, obviously not happy at being cut off. But he did look appeased by John's comments. "Well…good. So long as you understand. So what do you want to do first?"

Reaching for Carter's laptop, John tapped a key and brought up a list of files. He turned the computer around so Rodney could read the screen. "Every day starts with reports. Read the reports, take notes if necessary, respond if you have too."

"You're kidding me?" Rodney looked horrified. "I spend half my day reading reports as it is."

"Join the club." John leaned back in the chair and sighed. Even with Carter in charge, John was still head of the Military and that meant he had a computer full of reports that needed sorting through daily. He was lucky enough to have Lorne as his CO2, though. When John was out with his team, or just out of commission, Lorne was right there to pick up the slack.

Rodney was making faces at the computer. "Can't we leave the reports for Carter to deal with when she gets back? I want to do fun stuff."

John swallowed a laugh and shook his head. "We're not leaving them for her. Besides which, reports can be useful. You should know, Rodney. You write enough of them." John turned the computer back around and eyed the files. Six of them were from McKay, generated just yesterday. And all were flagged as Very important. Read ASAP.

"Fine." Rodney grumbled, reaching for the laptop. "You're lucky I speed read." He was just about to settle down in his own chair when his radio crackled. Rodney tapped it. "Yes, what is it?" He snapped, impatiently.

"Sorry to bother you, Dr. McKay, but we're having difficulties with the diagnostics you set us to run on data base four." It was Miko's soft voice that filtered through the room.

Rodney was scowling. "What sort of difficulties? It's a simple diagnostic."

Miko was silent for a long moment, then she sounded worried as she replied. "Well…the readings don't look right. I'd feel better if you would come and check them."

"Oh, all right!" Rodney didn't hide his anger as he tapped off. He set the laptop back on the desk and said," I'll be back as soon as I fix things. Again! Don't do anything interesting without me!"

"I won't," John promised. Because all he intended to do was work on the reports, and they were seldom all that interesting. He waved Rodney off then settled in to start work.

Six hours later, Rodney still wasn't back, but he had reported in to John that he was on top of things and he'd fill him in later. John trusted Rodney to let him know if something was seriously wrong. Right now he happy to be done with most of the reports and he rubbed his eyes for a moment, letting himself relax into the chair. When he opened his eyes it was to find Ronon looming across the desk, a tray in hand.

"Brought lunch," Ronon rumbled.

"Isn't it late for lunch?" John commented, even as he pushed the laptop aside to make room for the plate Ronon was holding. Once it was in front of him he couldn't deny he was hungry. And it was his favorite. Turkey with cheese. John did make a face at the glass of milk that Ronon placed next to it. Not that he didn't like milk, but he didn't often have it with his meals.

Ronon caught his expression and grinned. "Milk does a body good," he said, obviously quoting something he'd either seen in a magazine or on a TV commercial. When he'd gone back with John for his father's funeral, the Satedan had spent several hours in front of the TV.

John said nothing, taking a bite of his sandwich as he watched Ronon place a second plate, heaped with three sandwiches on the desk, before settling in the chair across from him. "Feel up to a sparring session later?" John queried after they spent a few minutes munching in companionable silence.

"You're not cleared for sparring," Ronon reminded him.

"Keller sent you to keep an eye on me, didn't she?" John had suspected as much, but now he was sure of it. Ever since Ronon and Keller had been locked up together in the infirmary during the false quarantine, they had become very chummy. Apparently that closeness was going to work against John when it came to health issues.

Ronon shrugged a massive shoulder, taking a moment to swallow a big bite of his first sandwich. Another big bite and he'd be finished with it. "She just asked if I'd check in on you here and there."

John didn't believe that was the complete truth, but he let it slide. The sandwich was good and he enjoyed Ronon's company, so no reason to complain. They chatted about movies and about whether or not John should sneak out for a run in the morning, as they cleaned their plates. John leaned back, reaching for his glass and draining the last few swallows of milk before heaving a contented sigh. "That really hit the spot. Thanks, big guy."

"I was eating anyway." Ronon had finished before John, despite having more food, and now he stood up and filled the tray with their empty plates. "I'll be back at dinner time. Don't make me come looking for you."

"You'd track me down anyway," John countered, grinning. "I should be here unless I get called away." He realized he sounded wistful.

Ronon looked amused. "Not much fun being in charge, is it?"

John shook his head, regretting the action when it set off a throbbing ache in his temples. He rubbed at the spot as surreptitiously as he could, but realized he wasn't fooling Ronon. Dropping his hand he pushed out of his chair. "I think it's time for a break. How's the weather today?" A few minutes out on the nearest balcony sounded like a plan.

"Bright out and not too warm," Ronon replied, looking pleased with himself. As if he had planned for John to get the idea to take a break and get some fresh air.

"Guess I'll head outside for a bit then," John said, going with the flow. He lead the way out of the office and while Ronon veered off to dispense with the tray, John turned left and went outide. It was a perfect day and he leaned against the balcony and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and serenity for a whole five minutes before Rodney radioed him to come down to his lab and initialize one of the consoles.

And so went the rest of his day.

The next two days went much the same. Reports and calls and Ronon hovering around him and making sure he ate and took breaks. John was pleased when Keller cleared him to full duty and a return to exercise, only he didn't get a chance to do any sparring or with Teyla or running with Ronon. It seemed as if Murphy's law were kicking in. Nothing big or particularly worrisome, like an upcoming Wraith attack. But every little thing that could go wrong, seemed to do so. One after another

Rodney was kept busy, running diagnostics and fixing things and various other issues, but he still found enough time to radio John and bug him about getting a chance to really run things, ignoring John when he reminded him that he was mostly slogging his way through endless reports. Ronon offered to gag Rodney for him and John was starting to consider taking him up on his offer. John knew that Rodney was just excited about getting the chance to finally run Atlantis, but all he was doing at the moment was giving John a headache.

Most recently because Rodney and Zelenka were arguing with each other over the radio and trying to involve John. Zelenka had been released from the infirmary the day before and his first stop had been in the office to gift John with a bottle of scotch and a stash of French chocolates. John had been touched and had insisted that Zelenka's thanks was enough. But Zelenka had insisted that he keep the gifts and then he'd assured John that he would do his part in keeping Rodney out of his hair. 

Which led John to believe Zelenka was behind Rodney suddenly being needed all over Atlantis to fix every kind of problem imaginable. If it were true, he was both grateful and amused, and he'd have to put an end to it soon. He really did want to give Rodney a chance to run things while Carter was gone.

But at the moment John settled for tapping off and tossing his radio aside. At lunch he'd asked Teyla to make time for a sparring session. Pregnant or not, the woman could kick his ass and teach him a few things along the way. John was feeling tense and he knew a work out would help him relax and relieve the stress he was feeling.

So he made his way to the gym to find Teyla waiting for him. She handed over a set of banto rods and they began. It felt good and familiar to slip into the warm up movements. Then when Teyla felt he was ready, they began sparring.

Despite Teyla assuring him he didn't need to hold back, John couldn't help but do so. Which meant Teyla got in hit after hit, but John didn't care. He had missed this. 

"You are not focusing," Teyla warned, as she smacked John on the hip with one stick.

He cursed and stumbled for balance before trying to make himself pay better attention. But as graceful as Teyla still was in her movements, John couldn't see past the bulge of her stomach. He couldn't forget that she carried a life inside her. He couldn't trust himself enough to fight back with his usual intent. No way in hell was he going to risk hurting her.

Which upset Teyla and she tried to force him to respond. To fight her without fear. But John wouldn't relax enough. Her condition was too distracting and he was about to call an end to the session when Teyla did a sharp turn and lashed out at him.

John tried to block the blow and managed to mostly slip under it. But Teyla was already following up with another hit and John stumbled as he tried to turn and block. So when Teyla struck out at him, she caught him hard on the temple.

White flashes of pain burst through his skull, fading quickly to gray.

John heard Teyla call his name even as he felt his body fold up and hit the floor. He wanted to tell her he was fine, that he just needed a minute. But in a heartbeat, everything faded to black.

**THE END…of part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy…part 3  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 3**

He felt a hand on his face, patting his cheek gently. There were sounds. Hushed sounds. But they were too loud in his head and he tried to cover his ears but he couldn't seem to get his hands to work. No. Something was pinning his hands and John tried to struggle to free himself, but…bad idea. Now his head hurt and his stomach was roiling with nausea.

"John…can you hear me?"

He knew that voice. Teyla. She called his name again and suddenly John remembered. They were sparring and she'd smacked him a good one and he'd gone down. Which would explain the fact that he was on his back with an aching head.

"John, please open your eyes if you can hear me." Teyla sounded worried and scared.

Which triggered something in John because Teyla never sounded scared. So he did as she asked and opened his eyes. Which made pain spike in his head when the light hit them. He swallowed back a moan and some bile, quickly closing his eyes again.

But Teyla must have caught the motion because she was gripping his hand now and she sounded relieved as she whispered, "You will be fine, John. Dr. Keller is on her way. "

"M'fine," John slurred, because he wanted to reassure her, only to realize he sounded drunk, which couldn't be all that reassuring. So he tried opening his eyes again. Big mistake. Another spike of pain and his stomach rebelled and the next thing he knew he was being rolled on his side just in time to vomit up everything he'd eaten for the last week. At least it felt that way.

Pain throbbed in his head and John couldn't stop gagging. But suddenly there were other voices. Keller? And hands on him and soothing coolness before he slipped into pain free darkness.

OoO

"You need to rest, Teyla."

Those were the words that John woke up to. They sounded muffled in his head, and that could have been because his head felt heavy and achy. And when he finally managed to peel his eyes open, pain exploded in his skull from the brightness in the room. John couldn't swallow back a moan, or nausea.

Not surprisingly, someone helped him move so he could throw up into a kidney dish, then hands were easing him back and a damp cloth was smoothed over his face. He felt a straw touch his lips and he sucked up cool water with a minty taste that made the bad taste in his mouth go away when he spit.

Keller's voice whispered in his ear that he would be okay, to just rest now, then something cool and soothing flooded his veins and John felt himself drifting away. But he didn't want to sleep again. He wanted to make sure Teyla was okay.

But before he could even find the energy to say her name, darkness claimed him.

OoO

The next time John woke up, it was to the sound of Teyla singing softly from close by. He lay there, eyes closed, listening. It was a beautiful song and she had a beautiful, and soothing, voice. His head still ached, but the pain level was more irritating than nauseating. Given how lethargic he felt, John was pretty sure part of the reason for that was the meds Keller had him on. Which he was grateful for on the one hand, but hated on the other. Lack of killer pain was good, but feeling muddled and weighted down was not.

"John?"

He realized it was Teyla calling his name. When had she stopped singing? When gentle fingers brushed over his forehead, he forced his eyes open to see Teyla's beautiful face gazing down at him. "Hey," John croaked, which set off a round of coughing. Teyla expertly raised the head of his bed and guided a glass of water to his lips, which eased the cough. However, the coughing had ratcheted up the throbbing in his temples and as he leaned back against the pillows, he lifted his IV free hand to rub at them.

When the hell had he gained and IV? John stared at it a moment, racking his brain to try and remember, until Teyla touched his arm.

"Should I get Dr. Keller?" she asked, looking worried along with the guilt that seemed permanently etched on her face.

"I'm fine," John was quick to assure her. "Really. Just a slight headache."

Teyla nodded, not looking reassured. "Dr. Keller said that a headache is normal with a concussion."

John blinked at that. "I have a concussion?" He thought about how he was feeling in general and realized it made since. He'd had a few concussions and they had felt just like this. Which then explained why he felt a bit out of the loop. But there was one thing he remembered clearly. "Is Rodney running things?"

"Yes, but it's only been two days. You do not need to worry, John." Teyla tried to sound reassuring.

"Two days?" John echoed, because being out of it for two days and not remembering much was not a good sign. But on a positive note, he suddenly remembered something. "Hey….weren't you supposed to be heading out to M7R-221 for two weeks of baby stuff and impending motherhood bonding?" It had been one of the first places in this area they had visited upon arrival, and it seemed to be a planet filled with children. John had figured that at least half the female population was pregnant at all times. Teyla had gone to visit many times and had made friends there. He wanted her to spend time among them, because they could relate to her in her present condition.

Teyla was nodding. "I was to leave today, but I did not want to go after what happened. I need to be certain that you will be okay."

John reached for her hand. "I'll be fine, Teyla. I am fine." Or he would be once he ditched the catheter. "I have a hard head.'

"Not hard enough it seems," Keller interjected, as she strode towards them.

"I just need to learn to duck better," John replied, figuring that some light-hearted banter was needed. He felt like crap, but he wanted to be able to convince Keller to cut him loose as soon as possible. He was pretty sure he'd slept through the worst of the concussion, and if he could hide out in his room with a bottle of Tylenol, he'd be fine.

Teyla almost smiled at his words. "You need to pay better attention, John," she gently admonished.

And he knew what she was saying without words. That he needed to listen to her. And she was right. She was still Teyla, still smart, still his friend. She knew her limitations and he needed to respect that. "Good point," h conceded, then he focused his attention on Keller. "So, can I get a shower and a permission to go to my room pass?"

"A shower might be possible," "Keller allowed. "But only after I check your vitals and you have something to eat. I'll remove the catheter and let you take a bathroom run. See how you do. We'll go from there."

John figured that was as good a deal as he would get, so he was agreeable. "Let's get started then."

Teyla patted his arm. "I will leave you to it then, but I'll be back later to visit."

"Go pack and visit your friends, Teyla," John countered firmly. "I'm fine. I mean it." When Teyla didn't look convinced, John turned to Keller for reinforcements. "Tell her I'm fine."

"He's fine," Keller obediently parroted, but felt the need to ruin the moment by adding, directly to Teyla, "I'll be keeping a close eye on him. Ronon too. We won't let him over do or get into anymore trouble."

"Hey!" John protested, indignation welling up in waves. "I can hear you," he reminded Keller, who simply smirked at him. But he noticed that Teyla was smiling and she looked less upset, so the teasing didn't really bother him as much as he made out.

Teyla gave John a fond look then nodded. "I will pack and return to say goodbye."  
John was glad to hear that. "Sounds like a plan," he said approvingly. Then he flapped a hand at her. "Beat it. I'll see you soon." He watched her walk away, still graceful in spite of her heavy stomach. Then John turned his attention to Keller, wincing as he watched her reach for a pair of latex gloves. Getting a catheter removed sucked, but it would be worth it to be untethered again.

Fifteen minutes later John had made a bathroom trip and was back in bed nibbling at a slice of toast. He got half a slice down and it was enough to convince Keller to let him shower, but only with Ronon keep watch over him. John wanted the shower and scrubs bad enough to allow it.

He was happy to feel clean and to feel more covered and less vulnerable, but he wasn't pleased by the fact that a simple shower had worn him out. By the time he crawled back under the covers, he was ready or a nap. But at least he was IV and catheter free and when he woke up he was pretty sure he could convince Keller to release him to his room. So John was smiling as he let himself drift off into darkness.

OoO

John woke up to a familiar sound. Someone typing on a keyboard. He didn't need to open his eyes to know it was Rodney. But he opened them anyway and smiled when he was right. "Hey," John croaked.

"Hey…oh." Rodney stopped typing and looked up to stare at John. "You're awake. Finally. How do you feel? I did the reports so they're caught up. Actually, I think I'm ahead of the game, so you owe me. Big time. Do you want some water.?" Rodney almost managed to say it all on a single breath, all the while leaving John feeling rather breathless just listening to him.

"Water would be good," he conceded, and he was grateful when Rodney steadied the glass for him. "How long was I out?" he asked, when he was done sipping.

"Few hours, I think," Rodney replied. "I have things totally under control, by the way. Just so you know. You don't have to worry about a thing other than feeling better."

John realized that Rodney was nervous and trying to make a good impression, without sounding like that was what he was doing. "Great," he said, being totally sincere. "Thanks, Rodney. So…nothing's come up? Nothing I need to know about?"

Rodney sighed. "No. Nothing. Which is kind of annoying. Even Atlantis is running smoothly. There haven't been any kind of altercations between anyone. Nothing at all."

"That's a good thing, Rodney," John countered, chuckling a bit. He shifted so he was sitting up a bit more and realized he was feeling better. Head still ached a bit, but he really did feel better. Well enough, in fact, to make a bathroom run. So he shoved the covers back and started to get up."

"What are you doing?" Rodney exclaimed, moving forward and trying to push John back into bed. "You can't get up!"

John rolled his eyes. "I have to pee, Rodney, and I didn't break my legs you know. I'm fine." He pushed Rodney aside and slid to his feet, feeling only a bit wobbly. Which made him happy. He was pretty sure Keller would let him go to his room sometime today."  
Rodney hovered in John's personal space. "I'll escort you to the bathroom. Don't walk too fast. If you feel like puking, don't!" 

"I don't need help, Rodney," John insisted, stepping around his friend and heading towards the bathroom with a steady stride. He only faltered once, just as he reached the door, and he shut Rodney out before he could say anything. But by the time he was done and opened the door to go back to bed, Keller was waiting with McKay.

John glared at his friend. "Tattle tale," he hissed.

Rodney didn't look offended. "I'm just making sure you're all right," he countered, crossing his arms over his chest and sounding defensive.

"Rodney was right to call me, John," Keller admonished him. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough to go back to my room," he replied, grinning. "Seriously. My head aches a bit but I feel much better, and I'll rest better in my own bed." He could see the wheels turning in her head as she studied him and considered. John resisted the urge to cross his fingers as he waited for her reply.

After a long moment of consideration, Keller nodded. "Fine. You can go to your room after you eat. I want you to rest. No computer work until I release you to light duty. No exercise either. But I would like to see you eat six small meals a day to get back on track."

John gaped at her a bit. "No offense, Doc…but I can't just eat and sleep all day."

"You can read and watch movies," Keller countered firmly. "But nothing else."

"How about short walks after I nap?" John was feeling a bit desperate here. He could feel tension in his body that needed the relief that only exercise or movement could provide.

Keller looked irritated, but after a moment she compromised with him. "You can take walks with an escort."

John was about to argue with her, but just then he caught sight of Teyla walking towards him and John focused on her and the fact that she was smiling and looked excited. She was dressed in the clothes she tended to wear when traveling. "You all ready to go?"

"I am." Teyla reached for one of his hands and squeezed it. "Are you sure it is a good time for me to leave?"

"I'm sure." John squeezed back then gestured to Keller. "Doc here is releasing me to my room after I eat, so I'm good. And Rodney is doing a great job running things till I get back on my feet."

Rodney puffed up at John's words. "I am doing good," he conceded. "And make sure you tell Sam that when she gets back." He shook a finger at John.

"I'll tell her as well as put it in my report," John promised. Glancing back at Teyla he queried, "So when are you heading out?"  
"Now," she replied, looking guilty.

John didn't want her feeling guilty anymore. Not about anything. "Go and have fun and do what…uh…ya know…expectant mothers do."

Teyla laughed at that, leaning in to rest her forehead against John's in the way of her people. "I will miss you," she said softly. "Be safe and be good."

"I think I'm insulted" John drawled, drawing back so that she could see that he was teasing her. Mostly. Sometimes Teyla had a way of making him feel like he was a naughty five year old.

"Don't be," Teyla replied. She then turned to Rodney and touched foreheads with him as well before saying her final goodbyes and walking out with a wave to them.

John waited until she was gone to turn back to Keller. He wasn't done arguing about her rules. But he was foiled, yet again, in his quest when Ronon appeared with two trays of food. He set one down on the rolling tray table and pushed it in front of John.

Keller pointed to his plate. "Eat up, Colonel. You need to rebuild your strength. If you clean your plate you can go to your room."

"Why do I feel like I'm being punished for something, instead of being rewarded for feeling better?" John groused, even as he picked up his spoon and dug into the bowl of what passed for chicken soup.

"Where's my tray?" Rodney complained to Ronon, totally ignoring John.

Ronon cocked a eyebrow at him. "Did you break your legs while I was gone?"

Rodney scowled. "No, of course not. What does that have to do with anything?"

"If your legs aren't broke then you can walk to the mess and get your own lunch," Ronon returned, before biting into his triple decker sandwich. It looked like a mix of turkey, ham and roast beef.

"Why don't I get a sandwich?" John interjected, before Rodney could voice a rebuttal to Ronon. He stirred his soup with the spoon, watching the noodles float about, looking like worms. It was extremely unappetizing, and John had no interest in ingesting it.

Keller locked eyes with John. "You don't really think your stomach can handle one of those?" she countered, jerking a thumb in the general direction of Ronon's sandwich.

John knew he'd never keep it down, but he was arguing the principal of the thing. Mostly he just took the fact that he felt up to arguing as a good thing. It meant he really was feeling better. Of course, he tended to be ornery at the best of times and he was feeling it now, but mostly he just wanted out of here. He knew he wasn't actually helping his case, but a part of him didn't care. Maybe he just wanted to test how far he could push Keller's buttons. "Anything has got to be better than this fake chicken soup."

"Eat up or resign yourself to staying put, Colonel," Keller shot back, without missing a beat.  
John was tempted to push his luck, and he might have done just that but Rodney intervened, in typical Rodney fashion.

"Oh shut up and eat the soup already, Sheppard! And that's an order." Rodney used his best commanding tone and looked like he seriously expected to be obeyed.

"You're not the boss of me," John deadpanned, fighting a smirk and losing.

Rodney glared at him and opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but Keller intervened.

"Enough all ready!" She glared at Rodney then John, her gaze lingering on John. "I can tell you're feeling better, Colonel, because you're acting up. But you're still weak and you need to take it easy, which means following doctor's orders. Which are to eat if you want to be released to your room. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," John replied, because he wasn't stupid. He knew if he pushed her again, he'd lose. So he picked up his spoon again and took a swallow of soup. He grimaced but took another spoonful. He would finish the bowl if it killed him. Metaphorically, of course.

He actually managed to finish the soup, take a short nap, and pass inspection when he woke up. Keller agreed to release John to his room. She had a list of instructions and insisted that Ronon escort him there, but once safely ensconced inside his quarters, John was finally left to his own devices.

The first thing he did was to radio Rodney to check in. To John's relief, nothing out of the ordinary was going on, so he was able to relax in that respect. A long shower helped ease his tension and some of his muscle aches, and two Tylenol worked on his headache. He was pretty sure he was up to a walk and even though he felt a bit wobbly, John was positive he didn't need an escort.

Ronon, however, had apparently become psychic when John wasn't looking and he was leaning against the far wall when John stepped out of his room. "Want to walk to the balcony?" he asked, looking amused.

"Can I convince you to look the other way while I head for destinations unknown?" John queried, knowing the answer even as he asked. But it never hurt to try.

"We can swing by the messhall on our way back and eat in your room," Ronon countered, as if John hadn't even spoken. Reaching out he gripped John by the shoulder and steered him down the hallway.

It was in that moment that John resigned himself to having a keeper and being a good boy.

OoO

Follow Keller's rules to the letter, under Ronon's watchful eyes, proved worth it in the end. John spent two days pretty much eating, sleeping, watching movies and taking short walks. By day two his headache ha faded away, Atlantis ran smoothly and the only downside was Rodney started complaining that he was bored and went off world with Lorne's team to check out a power surge.  
Which was fine with John because Keller had released him back to light duty so he slipped back into Carter's office, only to discover that Rodney hadn't been kidding about handling the paper work. There were a few evaluations to look over, but he had that done in less than half an hour.

Because Lorne was so damn efficient, John didn't have any of his own paperwork to do, so instead he contacted Ronon and went to lunch. After lunch he took a walk, checking into with various departments. He then did a spot inventory inspection in the armory before heading to the gym to watch Ronon training the newest batch of recruits..

By dinner time Rodney had returned, his mission with Lorne a bust. So they grabbed dinner and Rodney spent most of the time complaining some more.

"I thought being a leader would be exciting," he exclaimed, waving his fork dramatically. "It's a lot of paper work. Nothing happens. Why is that? Things used to happen."

"Odds are in favor of something happening in the near future," John pointed out, trying to console his friend. Although he found it rather unsettling to be almost promising Rodney that something bad would happen soon.

And in the way that fate tends to laugh in one's face, John's radio beeped. "Sheppard here."

Zelenka's voice came through, sounding a half octave higher than usual. "Sorry to bother you, Colonel, but we have situation in the Jumper bay."

"What kind of situation?" John prompted.

"A fight," Zelenka replied, before cursing in Czech.

John was already on his feet, ready to head out the door. "Details!" He demanded, as he started off, Rodney on his heels.

There was a pause, a thumping sound, then Zelenka was back. "I have been repairing Jumper 4 and one of your marines asked if he might observe."

Rodney was listening on his ear piece and obviously impatient. "Get to the fight part, Radek! We don't have all day here."

"Long story short, another marine came in looking for marine who was observing and they started arguing and now they are punching each other," Zelenka finished in a rush. "Please to hurry, Colonel!" Zelenka's voice was now hushed, as if he were hiding.

John figured maybe he was and that it was probably a good thing. "I'm on my way," he told Zelenka. "Just keep your distance."

"I am gifted at hiding," Zelenka hissed. "Just hurry, please!" Then he tapped off.

John quickened his stride, heading for the nearest transporter, when a hand came out and gripped him by the arm, jerking him to a halt. "Rodney, what the hell are you doing?"

Rodney's reply was to step around John and reach the transporter first. "I'm going to handle this fight thing," he replied.

"What?" John stared at Rodney in shock.

"It's the first interesting thing that's happened since I started running things," Rodney countered. "And you owe me after all the paperwork I did for you."

John shook his head. "Next crisis is yours," he promised. "But it's my men who are fighting and I'm responsible."

Rodney scowled at him. "Says you!" he taunted, sounding like an indignant eight year old. Then he stepped into the transporter and hit the pad, making the doors slide shut before John could react.

"Dammit!" he swore, resisting the urge to punch the wall. A moment later the transporter reappeared and John stepped in, tapping his radio to contact Ronon. Hopefully the runner could get there first.

But Rodney could move fast when he wanted too. Ronon was a fast second and had both marines by the scruff of their collars, but it was too late. By the time John ran into the room, Rodney was on the floor, holding his nose, blood staining his fingers.

John ran to his friend, kneeling beside him. "Rodney, you okay?"

"No, I'b nod okay," he snapped, his voice muffled. By his hands.

Heaving a sigh, John tapped his radio and called for Keller. "You're going to be fine, Rodney," he said, patting McKay on the shoulder. "Keller is on her way." Rising to his feet he faced the two marines, both of whom looked guilty and stared at their feet as he approached. "What the hell were you doing?" he demanded. But before either could reply he waved a hand, cutting them off.

"Never mind. You'll both have time to think about what you've done, in the brig!" John locked eyes with Ronon who nodded and hauled the two marines away.

When John turned back to Rodney, it was to see that Zelenka had magically appeared and was sitting next to Rodney, whispering in Czech.

John moved to crouch beside them. "You're going to have to tell me exactly what happened," John told Zelenka.

"Be happy too," the scientist replied. He then looked at Rodney. "Does it hurt?" he asked, making a pained face.

Rodney's glare spoke louder than words.

John was relieved when Keller and a nurse arrived with a gurney. A few minutes later they wheeled Rodney off, McKay cursing and complaining all the way. Which made John feel better. If Rodney could complain loudly, then he would be okay.

His two marines, however, were in big trouble. But John was going to let them stew about their punishment for a while. Right now he wanted to check on Rodney. As he headed for the transporter, John sent up a wish to whatever deity that was listening, for the remaining five weeks without Carter to be calm and quiet and as boring as they could get.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that fate was going kick them in the ass.

**THE END…of part 3**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Fic: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy...part 4**_  
TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy…part 4  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 4**

Once he was alone, John leaned against the wall and let the silence creep over him. A slight throbbing had taken up residence in his temples and he lifted a hand to rub at them, only to catch sight of the blood staining his fingers. Rodney's blood. His nose had really been gushing.

John sighed. Sometimes he really hated his job. He needed to punish his men for fighting, but it was going to be tricky. McKay had been injured, but more through his own fault than that of his men. John was pretty sure how the scenario went. Rodney had been determined to stop the fighting and he would have strode right over to them, intent on making them listen and not paying attention to the fact that they were two pissed off marines, which meant they were dangerous. Which to most people would translate to -keep your distance. Unless you were Ronon of course.

Pushing away from the wall, John headed for the nearest transport and went to his room to clean up. His next stop was the brig, but only after contacting Keller and hearing Rodney whining in the background. She assured him McKay was going to be fine, so John decided taking care of the punishment of his men came first, then he could visit Rodney with the news that it was taken care of.

Ronon and Lorne were both waiting for him. John had decided what to do and he conferred with them for a moment before gesturing for Lorne to open the cell door. John clasped his hands behind his back as he entered, eyes focused on first one marine then the other. He almost smirked at the way they stood up and snapped to attention as he approached them.

"I'm not pleased with your behavior," John stated, setting the tone for this confrontation right off the bat. "We're supposed to fight the enemy, not each other."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in chorus. "Sorry, sir!"

John hid a wince, the sharpness of their tone cut through his head, stabbing like a knife. He was definitely going to be raiding his Tylenol stash before heading for the infirmary. "Sorry is a start," he conceded, "But not good enough. You will explain yourselves to Major Lorne and he'll write up a report but, for the record, whatever reason you have for fighting, it's no excuse and it will not excuse you from being punished for your bad behavior."

"Sir, yes, Sir!" Came the in synch response.

John resisted the urge to clap his palms over his ears. "Actions speak louder than words, as the two of you have demonstrated. So actions will form your apology, although you will apologize to Dr. McKay formally as well." John held up a hand to cut them off from responding - shouting - at him again. "Starting tomorrow, at dawn, you will both have an hour work out with Ronon Dex. He might teach you a few things, if you're left standing." John paused to watch his men flinch and turn a bit pale. All the marines knew that Ronon could kick their asses, and the Satedan had promised John that he would teach Martin and Briggs a lesson they would never forget. But that was only part one of the punishment. Part two was going to be worse.

It gave John no end of satisfaction to see his men close to begging by the time he left them. Yeah, sometimes being in charge had it's moments. He was positive Martin and Briggs would never fight each other, or anyone else, ever again. At least not while they were in this galaxy. Of course, fighting the enemy was the exception.

Stepping into the transporter, John decided the Tylenol could wait. He would check on Rodney and update him on the punishment he'd handed out. He could tell McKay that it had Ronon's seal of approval, and that was saying something. Most of the Satedan's suggestions for punishments would be considered cruel and rather inhumane. Although John was pretty sure the big guy was mostly keeping up appearances, so to speak. He wouldn't really do most of the things he'd suggested, but he could pretty much menace anyone into believing that he would and that was just as effective, in most cases.

Making his way out of the transporter and into the infirmary, John was relieved to hear Rodney's voice. Complaining. He grinned to himself as he followed the whine and found Rodney in the corner, with a frustrated looking Keller standing next to his bed. "How's he doing, Doc?" John asked, wanting the answer from Keller because Rodney did have a history of being a bit over dramatic when it came to personal injuries.

"He's going to be fine," Keller was quick to assure John. "Believe it or not, he didn't break his nose."

"You mean those Neanderthal's didn't break my nose!" Rodney interjected, snappishly. Then he broke off, wincing, and muttering "ow" under his breath.

Keller rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Right. Anyway, he just needs to keep an icepack on his nose for a while and take some Tylenol. He'll be sore for a while, but okay."

John was pleased. "Glad to hear it." He took a good look at Rodney, seeing the beginnings of two black eyes and he could sympathize. Being punched in the nose sucked. "Get some rest, buddy. Consider yourself off-duty until tomorrow."  
"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Keller asked, before Rodney could say anything.

"I'm good," John was quick to reply, hoping the good Doc didn't look too close. He was regretting not taking the Tylenol before coming to visit McKay. The throbbing in his temples was getting sharper and stronger and Keller had Carson's ability to see more than John wanted her too.

Rodney came to John's rescue without realizing it. "Hold up, Colonel. Nobody's leaving until you tell me what cruel and inhumane punishment those barbarians of yours are going to suffer!"

John was glad to answer McKay on that one. "Ronon has agreed to give Martin and Briggs private workouts for one hour a day for the next month. I think that covers the cruel part."

"That's adequate," Rodney allowed, looking pleased. "But it's not enough. Not nearly enough."

"I figured you'd feel that way," John said, grinning. "So the second part of their punishment is to play assistant to you for one month. You can make them do whatever you want them to do." John raised a finger and shook it at Rodney. "However, you are to return them to me in one piece. Ronon's always made his promise to do the same."

Rodney didn't respond for a moment, he was too busy looking thoughtful. Probably lost in thought of all the torturous tasks he could make Martin and Briggs perform. But after a moment he smiled and nodded carefully, obviously mindful of how sore he was. "I won't break them…much," Rodney promised. He slid off the bed, snatching up the Tylenol packets that Keller held out to him, before focusing on John. "Although not directly your fault that I was injured, I still think you owe me some time in my lab turning things on. Lorne's team brought back some interesting things from M8T-772."

John was about to decline when Keller beat him to it.

"You need to take it easy, Rodney," she said, her tone brooking no denial. "Go to your room and rest. Take the Tylenol as ordered. Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't."

"Fine!" Rodney wasn't one to play with his health, and it was obvious he was hurting. "I'll go rest for a while." He looked at John. "How about meeting in my lab after dinner? I'll contact you when I'm ready."

John was okay with that. "Sounds like a plan. And if you don't feel up to it, we can find time tomorrow."

Rodney didn't look happy, but he agreed. "Fine. See you." He turned and shuffled out of the infirmary.  
Turning to do the same, John found himself intercepted by Keller. "What's up, doc?" he asked, wincing the moment the words were out of his mouth.

She had the audacity to smirk at him, but then the grin faded and she was all business. "You look tired, Colonel."

"Well, it's been an eventful morning, as you can attest too," John replied. "And for the record, all I'm going to do today is catch up on paper work."

"Don't over do it," "Keller cautioned. "If you get a headache, take something and take a break. I don't want to see you back in here again, Colonel. At least not until you and your team are back through thee gate."

John almost chuckled, because he felt the same way. "That's what I'm shooting for, Doc. Although my ultimate goal is not to end up in here again at all. For any reason."

Keller was nodding. "I've had that same wish. You and your team are my best customers, Colonel. Please stop."

"We'll do our best," John promised, side-stepping around her and this time making good his escape. He headed for his room and took three Tylenol, then he did as he told her and headed for the office to play catch up. Thanks to Rodney, he didn't have as much as he had feared. But it was enough to ratchet up his headache in no time.

"Lunch time," Rumbled Ronon from the doorway, several hours later.

John glanced at his watch. A late lunch maybe. He was about to refuse but the look on Ronon's face made him reconsider. It was that look that said John was eating lunch one way or another, so he opted on the easy way. Under his own volition. "A sandwich sounds good," John drawled, as he pushed away from the desk and stood up. He took a moment to stretch, then he and Ronon headed out.

The short walk actually helped to clear John's head a bit, and after a few bites of a turkey sandwich, washed down by the glass of milk that Ronon insisted on, John actually felt better. "So, you looking forward to training Martin and Briggs one on one?"

"Already started," Ronon replied, around a mouthful of tunafish.

"Oh?" John knew there was a story there that he wanted to hear. He crunched on a chip as he waited for details.

Ronon shrugged, chugging half his own glass of milk down before replying. "I just convinced them that it would be in their best interest to start training as soon as possible."

John grinned. "So, how'd they do?"  
"Better than I thought they would," Ronon admitted. "But they'll be feeling a lot worse than McKay is come morning."

John was pleased to hear that. He was certain that between training with Ronon and suffering a month with McKay, they would learn their lesson and never repeat the offense. "So did Lorne find out why they were fighting in the first place?"

Ronon nodded, but took a bite of berry pie before explaining. "Seems they both like the same woman and they were basically fighting over who got to ask her out."

"Figures," John muttered. Most of the stupid fights his men got into were about women in some way. It was the nature of the male beast and being in the Pegasus galaxy, most everyone felt the pressure of facing each day as if it might be their last. Especially the marines, who were the first line of defense against all enemies. He could understand it, but that didn't mean he would tolerate it. So he was content with his punishment as it stood.

"Women make men do stupid things," Ronon said sagely.

John arched an eyebrow at him. He didn't hear Ronon was philosophical all that often. "True enough," he allowed. 

Ronon grinned. "Been there."

"Done that," John finished. Then they were both chuckling as they finished their meal. Afterwards, John headed back to his office and buried himself in reports. Until Chuck informed him that he had a transmission from Teyla.

"Put her through," John ordered.

"John?" came Teyla's voice, a moment later.

"I'm here," he replied. "How's things? You okay?"

"I'm am well," Teyla replied. "How are you feeling, John?"

He didn't want her to worry about him. "I'm fine. Really."

There was a moment of silence then Teyla said warmly, "I am glad to hear that. I…I wish to stay here for another week, John. Malaya has had her son and she is alone. I wish to stay with her to help her for a time. If you do not need me back there."

John didn't blurt out that he did need her, because it wouldn't be fair to Teyla. He always felt uneasy when one of his team was out of his sight, so to speak, but he knew this was important to Teyla. He also reminded himself that she was safe there. Probably safer than she would be on Atlantis, given some of the stuff that happened on what seemed to be a regular basis. Like stupid fights and systems that went down and such. "You stay as long as you like," John told her. "Just keep in touch."

"Thank you." Teyla sounded relieved. "And I will contact you every other day. Take care, John, and give my best to Ronon and Rodney." With that she signed off.

John tapped his ear piece and swallowed a sigh. He was going to miss Teyla, but he was happy for her. She needed this time for herself and so he would give it to her.

Focusing back on the reports, John slugged through them, and responding to an emergency call from Radek, until suppertime. Radek's fears were unfounded, turning out to be some practical joke one of the new scientists felt would be funny to pull. John took a moment to convince him otherwise, with the warning that he would send Ronon next time. John was pretty sure there wouldn't be a next time.

By the time Ronon dropped by to take him to chow, John had a full blown headache and begged off. Ronon escorted him to his room and made sure he took some Tylenol, then he left John to sleep it off. Which he ended up doing, oblivious to the fact that Ronon intercepted Rodney, when he wanted to contact John about their lab date.

John slept on, interrupted only by dreams of Ford taking over Atlantis and Elizabeth fighting him to the death.

OoO

When his radio beeped, John was almost relieved. His head ached a bit, but felt better overall, but he was wired from the dream that had claimed him. The image of Sumner's aged face still haunting him as he fumbled for his radio. "Sheppard here."

"Ready for breakfast and a fun morning of playing an on-off switch?" Rodney retorted.

"Sounds good," John replied. "But after I help you, you help me with the reports." He figured that was only fair since Rodney was co-leading with him.

Rodney huffed and puffed a bit, but finally agreed. So John told him he'd meet him in the messhall in twenty minutes. Tapping off he rolled out of bed and into the shower. Wisely, he downed two Tylenol after getting dressed. After brushing his teeth he was ready to face the day.

Breakfast with Rodney was sometimes annoying, but always amusing, and today was no exception. They plowed through mounds of scrambled eggs and toast and John smirked as he drained his glass of orange juice. Rodney settled for three cups of coffee. John took his coffee to the lab, ignoring Rodney's warnings of death and dismemberment if he spilled even a drop on one of the laptops or ancient devices.  
"So what do you want me to turn on?" John queried, as he gazed about the crowded lab. He knew, however, that Rodney knew where everything was so he didn't touch anything.

Rodney pawed through a pile of devices in the corner, finally pulling out something that reminded John of an old-fashioned cigarette case. "Here!" Rodney thrust it into his hand. "Try turning it on. It won't do anything for me."

John stared at the object before touching it. "Are you sure it's ancient?" He asked because it didn't look like the other things they'd found, or anything he'd seen on Atlantis.

"No, I'm not sure," Rodney replied, looking annoyed. "Hence why we're testing it. But Lorne did say he thought he felt it get warm when he held it. But it didn't do anything else."

"Okay." John took a last sip of coffee, set his cup aside, and reached for the device. It didn't do anything when he first touched it, but as it lay in his palm he could feel it growing warm. Then he felt a slight prickling. Closing his eyes John concentrated and thought On.

A moment later he screamed as pain rippled through him. He saw a flash of blinding white light, then darkness claimed him.

THE END…of part 4


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy…part 5  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 5**

John came awake to the sound of voices. They sounded muffled at first, like a buzzing in his ears. So he lay still, listening intently, ignoring the throbbing ache that radiated from the base of his skull and sizzled upward into his temples. He also attempted to ignore the fact that every breath he inhaled and exhaled made his body twinge with pain. Everywhere. John was pretty sure even his hair hurt.

So he focused on the voices. After a moment he was able to determine them as belonging to Rodney and Keller. What shocked John into full wakefulness was the fact that Rodney's voice was the quiet one. Although John had to focus on turning the sounds into actual words.

Keller sounded exasperated. "Rodney, he's going to be fine! How many times do I have to tell you that? You did not kill him!"

"Maybe not," Rodney allowed, his voice laced with loathing. "But for all you know, I might have scrambled his brains."

"I sincerely doubt that and I do believe my scans will back me up on it." Now Keller sounded resigned.

It took John a moment to realize they were talking about him and that Rodney was feeling guilty. Which he was going to put an end too, right now. "Hey…" he croaked out, his throat feeling sand blasted.

Keller and Rodney rushed to his side, Rodney reaching him first. "You're awake!" He looked surprised but pleased.

"Yep," John replied, because it would hurt to say more until he got some water.

Which Keller was already holding out to him. John took a few sips, relishing the cool sweetness as it soothed his throat going down, then he asked his favorite question. "How long?" He didn't have to be specific, because Keller knew what he was asking.

She glanced at her watch then replied, "About seven hours, Colonel. You're cutting it pretty close. Another couple of hours and it would have been catheter time. Again." There was a definite tone of chiding in her voice.

John shuddered, relieved hat his timing was getting better. But not so happy that he was in the infirmary yet again. Before he could respond, Keller countered with,

"I thought we agreed you would stop being my best customer." She looked a bit disgruntled and John couldn't blame her there.

"Wasn't my intention," John drawled, easing himself up against the pillow and taking stock of his body. His head ached, big surprise there, and his muscles felt sore, but overall he didn't think he'd suffered too much damage. Which he was about to tell her when Rodney interjected.

"My fault this time." McKay sighed. "I shouldn't have asked you to turn the stupid thing on. Not without doing more research. But I honestly thought it was out of power. Having you test it was basically going to be confirmation so we could toss it and move on. I never would have --"

Since Rodney was basically talking in a run on sentence, John hastened to interrupt him. "Not your fault, Rodney." He locked eyes with his friend, to confirm the message. He didn't blame McKay and besides, it didn't appear to have caused him any lasting damage.

Rodney didn't look like he believed him. "Just so you know, we've destroyed the device."

"Did you figure out what it was?" John asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Although he was glad to hear they got rid of the thing. He didn't want anyone else suffering through what he had. He could still remember the searing pain that seemed to jolt through his veins and zap every muscle in his body.

"Zelenka found a mention of it in the data base, after the fact…of course." Rodney replied, looking angry and subdued. "Apparently it was created to enforce punishment. Think of it as a cross between a tazer and electro-shock treatments. Only the governing forces deemed it to be too cruel and ordered it dismantled."

John winced as he shifted against the pillows, trying to ease the ache in his bones. "So, apparently, someone didn't know how to follow orders," he commented. He expected Rodney to comment, but the scientist merely nodded. "Stop blaming yourself," John ordered. "You didn't know this would happen, Rodney. Besides which, it's over and done with and I'm okay." He glanced over at Keller for confirmation. "Right, Doc?"

Keller had been watching the exchange between John and Rodney and she locked eyes with John as she nodded. "You got lucky, Colonel," she allowed. "But, for the record, you're not leaving here for at least twenty-four hours. Consider yourself officially under observation."

"Fine." John figured it was easier to agree than to argue a point he knew he wasn't going to win. "Can I get something to eat and a couple of Tylenol?" Since he was stuck here, he might as well take advantage of the services. And there was no sense in suffering if he didn't have too. Even though he wasn't going to admit to any specifics, John wasn't feeling his best at the moment.

"I'll get some soup and that Tylenol," Keller allowed. She checked John's IV, then nodded and left.

John was starting to get a bit creeped out by Rodney being so quiet. "Repeat after me. Not…your…fault."  
Rodney sighed. "Not helping." He flapped his hands, looking uncertain what to do with them, then he went to scratch his nose only to yelp when he touched the tender appendage.

John winced along with him. The nose was still swollen and his eyes were a brilliant purple and black. "How's it feeling?" he queried.

"Hurts more now that when it happened," Rodney confessed. He grabbed a chair, dragged it over and sat down. "I've been thinking," he began, only to break off and stare at the floor.

"You're always thinking," John reminded him. "What's up?" He could tell Rodney was bumming about something.

There was a long moment of silence before Rodney whispered, "I don't want to be co-leader anymore."

John heard the words, but he was pretty sure he hadn't understood them. "Come again."

"You heard me!" Rodney jumped up and glared at John. "I don't want to co-lead with you anymore."

"Why? Was it something I did?" John was truly perplexed, because he couldn't remember anything he could have done to upset McKay. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd spent most of the time here in the infirmary.

Rodney snorted. "I don't want the responsibility. Besides which, I have too much responsibility as it is. I'm a busy, busy man."

John knew that to be true, but he didn't think that's what this was about. "You want to quit because of what happened to me, don't you? Which is stupid, because it has nothing to do with co-leading Atlantis with me. And you know it."

"I do know that," Rodney conceded. "And it's not about the accident. Not exactly. It's everything adding up together. The accident was just the metaphorical straw that broke this camel's back."

"I know how you feel," John replied. Because he did. And he knew exactly what Rodney was referring too. All the things that had happened to them. Losing Ford. Losing Weir. Rodney blowing up ¾'s of a solar system. Those kinds of things weighed a person down. "But you can't quit on me now, McKay. I can't keep up on things from this bed."

Rodney sighed. "I'll do the reports for you, you make the tough decisions. Deal?"

John figured he could accept it, since that was pretty much what the deal had always been. "Deal." He was relieved when Rodney managed a tired smile. "Come back for a chess game later?" John prompted, hopefully.

"Did you miss the part where I said I am a very busy man?" Rodney countered, but he was smirking.

"I think I must have forgotten that bit of conversation," John replied, making a show of rubbing his head and looking pitiful. Which appeared to work since Rodney alternately scowled and grinned at him.

"Fine, I'll come by after dinner," Rodney allowed, looking less defeated.

"Bring dessert?" John knew he was being shameless and he didn't care. Rodney always scrounged the best desserts.

Rodney flapped a hand at him. "If I have time. Busy man here, Colonel."

John nodded, regretting the action when it made his head throb. "That you are, Rodney. So, make it something chocolate." He knew Rodney would come through.

"Don't push it." Rodney scowled at him then disappeared.

John rubbed his temples then made himself relax against the pillows, letting his eyes drift closed. "Five more weeks," he mumbled. Or was it four? He had lost track of time. Lethargy slid over him and John didn't fight it.

Which meant he didn't hear Keller returning with his soup, or see her set it aside and checked his vitals, before drifting away to let him sleep.

OoO

Keller released John the next day, but he was ordered to take it easy. Which he did. Hard not to with Ronon dogging his heels. But the day slipped by without incident, at least as far as him having to make a return visit to the infirmary.

The next two days passed by with relative ease as well. A few minor happenings sent him into the lab once and through the gate to make a rescue, which went surprisingly smoothly. Other than that, John found himself slogging his way through reports and updates and almost bored. It was rather nice.

At the end of the week, Carter emailed him with an update and all was well on her end. John was relieved and he emailed back that all was good on his end too, and that he hoped she returned on time. After that he made a circuit of Atlantis, ending up in the gym and finding himself missing Teyla.

Until Ronon showed up to see if he wanted to spar. John took him up on it and two hours later he took a long shower to ease his aches before sliding into bed. He was a bit hungry, but tired won out so he stretched out and closed his eyes. Only to be jolted awake by yet another nightmare.

This time it was a repeat of shooting Sumner, only to have the Colonel rise up and stalk John, having turned into a Wraith and intent on feeding on him. He was just about to slam his hand into John's chest when he woke up, heart hammering against his ribs.

Getting up, John used the facilities, splashed cold water on his face and willed his heart to stop racing. Glancing at his watch, he realized he'd only managed to get two hours of sleep. A cold sweat made his sweat pants and t-shirt cling damply to him, so he stripped them off and took a hot shower. He was just reaching for another pair of sweats when his radio went off. It was Rodney.

"We have a water leak on the sixth level, east section," Rodney informed him. "I figured you'd want to know."

"How serious?" John asked, as he grabbed BDU's and a t-shirt. By the time Rodney informed him it was serious enough that flooding could occur, John was dressed and running out the door.

He spent the next two hours in the chair, helping Roney and Radek run diagnostics and finally getting the water in that section shut down. John then discovered there was a neat little drainage program and he was able to implement it through the chair and within an hour the water was cleared up. They would just need to dry things out and probably initiate repairs.

"That drainage program would have been nice four years ago," Rodney commented, as they made their way back to the gate room. Both were too wound up to go to bed, but before they reached the nearest transporter, Chuck informed John he had a transmission from Lorne, whose team was out on a mission.

Swallowing a sigh, and hoping it wasn't going to be bad news, John tapped his radio. "Major, this is Sheppard. What's up?"

"Broken puddle Jumper, sir," Lorne replied. "I wouldn't have bothered you but the way back to the gate is blocked so we can't make it on foot."

"Any hostiles, Major?" John queried.

"Not so far, sir," Lorne replied.

John was glad to hear that. "We'll be there soon, Major. Sheppard out." He turned to Rodney. "Gear up and meet me back here in ten minutes. I'll grab Ronon."

Rodney stared at him in disbelief. "If we're both gone, who's going to run Atlantis?"

"It's a milk run, Rodney," John replied. "And it's he middle of the night. I'm pretty sure Chuck can keep an eye on things for us." He grinned at Rodney's shocked reaction.

"You're kidding right?" Rodney's tone conveyed that he thought John was insane. "Chuck? You can't leave Chuck in charge of Atlantis."

John grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and nudged him towards the transporter. "Just go get ready. Let me worry about it." He watched Rodney go, still muttering to himself. Scrubbing a hand over his face, John decided to grab a quick cup of coffee for a bit of a pick me up. As he headed toward the mess he contacted Ronon.

Ten minutes later he and his team were headed through the gate.

Ten hours later they returned, a bit dirty, more than a bit tired, and a wee bit bruised. Turned out the natives weren't friendly after all. Luckily no one got seriously hurt and Rodney was able to fix Lorne's jumper, so both teams returned intact.

John was feeling the lack of sleep and having had to do some hand to hand fighting that had been rather brutal at times. So when they reached the infirmary, he crawled onto a gurney and stretched out as he waited for his turn. He wanted everyone else cleared first. To his relief, everyone checked out fine and were released to their quarters.

On the way out, Lorne stopped to thank John for the rescue. "Appeciate it, sir."

"Anytime," John replied, grimacing as he sat up and his head began throbbing in time to his heartbeat. "Just don't make a habit of it."

"Don't plan on it, sir," Lorne replied, before waving goodnight.

Keller came striding over to John as he rubbed his temples. "You look like hell," she stated.

John sighed. "Kinda feel like it. I'm good though. Mostly tired." Which was as much of a confession as he was willing to make. Although he was hoping it was enough for her to offer some good drugs. John knew he needed sleep and he knew he wasn't going to get it without help.

"I can help with that." Keller came him the once over then helped him off the gurney. "Go clean up and I'll bring some scrubs. Giving you the good stuff means you'll be my guest overnight."

"Uh…can't I just hide out in my room?" John hadn't planned on staying.

Keller shook her head. "You've been through a lot in the past couple of weeks, Colonel. I want to keep an eye on you. Just to play it safe."

John realized it made sense and that she was just doing her job. "Fine. But I'm out of here come morning."

"It's already morning, colonel," Keller countered, smiling.

"You know what I mean." John managed a tired grin before shuffling off to the bathroom in the back corner. He was showered and changed in ten minutes. Five minutes after that he was in bed, covered to his chin and drifting into darkness.

**THE END…of part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

To everyone who commented on the last part, I'm sorry I didn't reply. I've spent two weeks in heck with my daughter getting sick and giving it to me. I'm just now getting back to par, so that's why I didn't reply, I just ignored the computer for sleeping and other such things. And that's why this part is a bit later. It's also short, as it's a transitional chapter leading up to the last two/few chapters. I want to say THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH for your lovely comments. :D

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 6**

John came awake slowly, feeling a lethargic warmth wash over him as the darkness of slumber eased into the lightness of consciousness. After a moment of simply lying still and listening, he sorted out two sounds. Snoring and typing. He figured Ronon was snoring to his left, which meant Rodney was typing to his right. But when he opened his eyes it was to discover that Ronon was to his right and tapping slowly at the keypad of Rodney's laptop.

"He's going to be pissed at you," John mumbled.

"Nah," Ronon replied, not even looking up. "He knows I'm on here. He set up the game for me to play."

John was surprised to hear that as he turned his head to the left to gaze at Rodney who was sprawled out on the bed next to him. "How long has he been sleeping?" He figured he could gauge how long he'd been out without asking outright.

Ronon did look up now, grinning at John. "McKay's been snoring for about three hours. You've been out maybe twelve."

"That would explain the call to nature," John drawled, as he tugged the blankets back and slid out of bed. He could feel Ronon watching him, but the big guy didn't offer to help, which made John happy. He didn't need help going to the bathroom. He wasn't exactly an invalid, or even a patient, despite his overnight stay. What he was was feeling better than he had in a few days. Whatever Keller had given him, it had worked and he felt like a new man. And a hungry man at that.

As he made his way back to his bed, John was glad to see Keller there, waiting for him. "Hey, Doc," John offered in greeting. "Got my release papers ready?"

Keller was smiling at him even as she shook her head. "You're not going anywhere until you've had breakfast and I check you over." She patted the bed. "So get right back under the covers."

"I feel great," John said, letting her know in advance in the hope that it would sway her decision. "I slept the night through, I don't have a headache."

"Bed," Keller interjected, still patting the blankets. She didn't budge until John was lying back against the pillows, then she took his vitals, starting with his pulse.

By the time she was reaching for the thermometer, Rodney woke up, grumbling.

"These beds suck! How do you expect anyone to get any sleep in this place." As he spoke he rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, missing the fact that everyone was staring at him.

It was Keller who replied. "I expect you to sleep in your own bed, Rodney, unless you're a patient."

Rodney glared at her. "That's not the point." He pointed to John. "I bet he didn't sleep a wink last night."

"Actually, I slept like a baby," John countered, to remind Keller that he really was fine and ready to be released. He ignored the scowl Rodney shot him. He was all about getting out of here as soon as possible.

"Don't push it, Colonel," Keller warned him.

So John fell silent.

But Rodney still had a lot to say. To John. "You really need to stay out of here. I'm tired of keeping vigil."

"I didn't ask you to keep vigil," John countered, even though he was rather touched by the fact that Rodney had turned up to sit with him. "I'm not sick either. Blame this time on Keller." John didn't feel the least bit guilty pointing a finger at the Doc either. Even if he hadn't been overly resistant about staying last night. That had been his exhaustion talking.

"I calls em as I sees em," Keller drawled, looking amused at her own expense. "Your vitals are good, Colonel and you do look better." She held up a hand to cut him off when he opened his mouth to reply. "But you're still stuck here until after breakfast. Which I'm off to send for." With that she waved and disappeared.

Rodney slid off his bed, stretching and cracking for a moment before confessing, "Breakfast sounds good." He looked at John. "Glad you're feeling better. Stop getting sick. Come by the lab later, I have stuff that needs to be touched. Later." Gliding by Ronon, Rodney deftly snagged his laptop before striding out of the infirmary looking pleased as punch.

Ronon watched him go, disappointment on his features. "Figures. I was just about to reach level ten."

John didn't ask what game he'd been playing. It wasn't hard to figure it had something to do with shooting things or blowing things up. "Want to go for a run after I get sprung from this place?" John queried. He missed running with Ronon because the big guy always pushed him to challenge himself.

"We can run for a bit," Ronon allowed, rising from his chair and popping his neck with a sound that made John flinch. "I'll stop back after breakfast to see if you're free."

"See you later," John called after the Runner, who was already halfway out the door. He settled himself more comfortably against the pillows while he waited. Ten minutes later he was digging into pancakes. He managed to clean half his plate. Keller had brought him a stack of ten pancakes and even when he was starving, John could never eat that many. "So can I go now?" he asked, as he pushed the tray table off to the side.

"You can go," Keller allowed, looking pleased. But she waggled a finger at him. "However, if you still can't sleep or you get another headache, I want to know about it."

"Will do," John replied, not being entirely truthful. He already had a headache starting, but he figured he could head it off with a packet of Tylenol once he reached his room. Climbing out of bed, he was just stepping into his boots when Ronon appeared.

The Runner watched him tie his laces. "Ready to go?"

John nodded. "More than ready." John waved at Keller. "Thanks for the hospitality, Doc."

"Anytime," she replied. "But don't take that literally. In fact, let's make a bet on how long you can go without ending up in here again, shall we?"

"Don't jinx me," John cautioned, because he'd been in the Pegasus Galaxy long enough to know that it wasn't wise to tempt fate.

Keller grimaced. "Good point. Go and do safe things. Like paper work."

John chuckled. "I can do that." He waved then headed for the door with Ronon on his heels. "I just need to make a pitstop at my room to change into sweats then we can go."

"Sounds good." Ronon matched his stride and it didn't take long to reach John's quarters. He made short work of stripping and pulling on running clothes and sneakers, then they headed out. Getting back into the swing of things felt good to John. He enjoyed pushing his body and testing his limits. He could feel himself wearing out easy, but he knew it would take time to get his stamina back.

Ronon, however, seemed disinclined to let him work for it. Forty minutes into the run he called a halt. "That's enough for today."

John pulled up, still jogging in place. "How you kidding me?" he countered in disbelief. "We just got warmed up."

"You're not up to par," Ronon replied. "Push too hard now and you'll just set yourself back further."

"Ten more minutes," John pleaded, already knowing Ronon was going to refuse, but he had to ask. He figured he could just run on his own, but the look on the Runner's face let John know that he would be stopped before he even started, so he stilled his feet and accepted a water bottle. "Keller has you wrapped around her little finger," he groused.

Ronon grinned. "Worse places to be." He took the water bottle back and tipped it to pour the half that was left down his throat where he swallowed it in a couple of gulps.

John couldn't argue with him there, so he didn't. He just turned back the way they came and started walking. Once back to the quarters section they split up. John stepped into his room and stripped for a shower. He spent a long time under the hot spray, soaking away a few aches. Afterwards he dried off, dressed in his uniform and downed a packet of Tylenol. The Adrenaline from running had faded and left him with throbbing temples. Glancing at his watch, he decided to head for the office to play catch up, only to find out that Rodney had been there ahead of him.

Being at loose ends, John did a tour of the city, checking up on things, before ending up in Rodney's lab. He touched a few things, did a few equations for Rodney, which he liked doing. Math was always relaxing for John, then they headed for the messhall for lunch, hooking up with Ronon.

John spent the rest of his day doing inventory with Lorne then watching Ronon in the gym. Riggs and Martin were having their daily lesson and John found himself wincing as they hit the mat hard, more than once. But they seemed to have learned their lesson and he was glad to see it. Rodney's eyes were still bruised looking and John wasn't going to forget what a close call that had been. Not anytime soon.

After that he ended up in the office and going over some updates with Chuck. Ronon collected him for dinner, then they headed for the rec room for movie night. John begged off early, still battling a headache and feeling tired, so he went to his room and went to bed.

He managed to sleep for four hours before a nightmare hit and he cursed as he got up and took more Tylenol before settling in to read for a while. He did manage to fall asleep again before dawn, snagging another two hours, and he was up at his normal time for his run with Ronon.

He was allowed to run five minutes longer today and he bitched about it to Rodney over breakfast, not that McKay cared. The rest of his day followed much the same pattern as the day before. There were two emergencies, one in Botany and one in the gate room, but they were easily solved issues. At least they broke up the monotony of the day.

That was when John noticed the notation on the lap tops daily calender that he had a department head meeting after lunch. That killed two hours and left John doing a write up report afterwards, so that Carter would be in the loop when she returned. He really missed her. He missed Teyla too and John was half tempted to jump in a jumper and go visit the Athosian. Only reminding himself that Teyla needed this time for herself kept John in the office.

When he caught himself rubbing his temples, he shut down the computer and headed for the messhall for a late supper. Ronon was there and they caught up on daily events over faux meatloaf. Then John opted for an early night. He was tired. But he had a repeat of the night before, only he wasn't able to get back to sleep by dawn this time.

After his run, where he had pretty much dragged his feet, John took a shower and considered his options. He really didn't want to see Keller, but he knew he was pushing exhaustion again and he figured it would be wiser to get the jump on it rather than wait till he ended up there as a patient. Maybe he could snag a light sleeping pill for a couple of days. At least until his body was back on track. It wasn't like he hadn't done that before, only it had been when Carson was still with them.

John was just belting on his thigh holster when his radio beeped. To his surprise it was Keller. "What's up, Doc?" John asked, before wincing as he realized what he'd said.  
At least Keller was amused enough to snort at him. "I need you to come down to the infirmary, Colonel. Lt. Wordak was just escorted back from M8X-773 and we may have a problem."

"He's on Lorne's team, isn't he?" John had to think about it for a minute to place the guy. If he remembered correctly, Wordak was a big guy and a weapons export. He'd been SWAT for a few years before going into the military.

"That's him," Keller confirmed.

John headed for the door. "Did something happen on the mission? I thought it was a simple trade thing."

Keller sighed. "It's still an ongoing trade thing. Lorne just sent Wordak back because he inhaled some pollen and had what appeared to be an allergic reaction. But Lorne stayed back to finish negotiations. Apparently they have meat."

"That's right." John remembered now. They had a cow like animal with a taste similar to venison, according to Ronon, who had tried Venison when he'd gone to Earth with John. "So I take it Wordak isn't suffering a simple allergic reaction.

"He's freaking out like he's high on something," Jennifer replied, her tone sharp and revealing a high level of stress. "He's been asking for his commanding officer, repeatedly, so I figured if you were here you might be able to calm him down before I have to resort to restraints."

John hit the corridor and headed for the nearest transporter. "I'm on my way." He clicked off and turned the corner when Ronon came striding towards him.

"Ready for breakfast?" the Satedan asked.

"Maybe later," John replied. "I've got a possible problem in the infirmary." He took a moment to explain what had happened.

Ronon patted his stunner. "I'll come with you." He looked eager, like a puppy anxious for excitement.

John didn't argue. Ronon always came in handy. Together they stepped into the transporter. Two minutes later they stepped into hell.

They could hear yelling the moment they cleared the doorway. John looked at Ronon who reached for his gun, John didn't pull his yet, but he had his hand at the ready. They headed towards the sound, rounding the corner, and John caught movement from the corner of his eye. Next thing he knew, Ronon was sailing across the room and crashing into a table.

Turning, John caught a glimpse of Wordak. Yep, as big as he remembered and he also remembered that the Lt. was a martial arts expert and that he had even taught Ronon a few moves. In fact, if John's memory was correct, Wordak was the only guy on Atlantis who, willingly, sparred with Ronon. Shit.

Catching a glimpse of Keller, who was lying on the floor to his left, John moved towards her, only to feel a hand on his arm and then he was flying across the room to hit the wall. The world flashed white then faded to black.

He came around to the sound of voices and fingers probing the back of his head. John pushed them away and made to sit up. Opening his eyes, he focused on Keller who looked pale and concerned. "You okay?" John asked.

"Define okay," she countered, her voice a bit shaky. "I'm not hurt but I'm scared."

"Ronon?"

"Here." The Satedan moved into John's line of sight and he looked okay, which was a relief.

John sat up, wincing at the throb in his temples and slid off the gurney. "Where's Wordak?"

Keller grimaced. "He took off after you and Ronon hit the floor. I'm pretty sure he's armed and he took a first aid kit and some meds."

"What for?" But John answered his own question. "He's ready for casualties. What was his state of mind?"

"He seems to think he's in a war zone and everyone is the enemy," Keller replied, looking a bit sick at the thought.

John cursed and tapped his ear piece. "Rodney, we've got a rogue marine running loose. Lock down everyone, tell them to keep safe and then I need you to track someone for me. Lt. Wordak."

Rodney heaved a sigh. "Rogue marine? What does that mean?"

"Ex Swat, martial arts expert, armed and dangerous and thinks we're all the enemy," John replied, being as succinct as possible. "I'm going to contact my men to go into protect mode and use several two-man strike teams to search out Wordak. I need everyone else to be locked in their rooms or labs or whatever, and to know to contact us if they see Wordak for location."

"Got it," Rodney replied, tapping off.

John made his calls to men, wishing Lorne were on base as he did so. He set up the teams then looked at Ronon. "Ready to do this?"

Ronon made a face. "I'm always ready. You okay?" He was eyeing John with concern.

"I'm fine." John turned to go only to have Keller grab his arm.

"You hit that wall pretty hard, Colonel. Maybe you should sit this one out and just supervise," she suggested.

John pinned her with a glare. "Not happening. Now lock yourself in here and keep an ear to your radio." With that John shrugged off her arm and headed for the door, unable to shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

**THE END…of part 6**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Fic: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy...part 7**_  
TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy…part 7  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 7**

As John and Ronon made their way down the east corridor on level six, John tapped his radio. "Rodney, what have you got for me?" He kept his tone hushed, just in case Wordak might be in hearing distance.

"I've got nothing," Rodney replied, sounding disgusted. "Wordak's signal just cut out."

"How is that possible?" John asked, his own mind trying to work it out. "Could he be in a section of the city that's shielded?"

Rodney snorted. "No. I'm using the city-wide sensors and they're set at a level that could pick up an atom if it had a tracker."

John sighed then asked the 100,000 dollar question. "So what happened?"

"When I know you'll know," Rodney snapped, before tapping off.

Which left Ronon and John and the other two-man teams that were searching for Wordak, pretty much left scrambling about in the dark.

John didn't like it much. He turned to Ronon. "You sparred with Wordak and went on a couple of outings with him. What's your opinion?"

"He's a good warrior," Ronon replied, being as succinct as always. "Finding him isn't going to be easy. He can track as well as I can, which means he knows how to hide."

"Just what I wanted to hear," John muttered, one hand lifting as he gave in to the urge to rub his temples. Not that it helped to ease the ache any.

Ronon was watching him. "You okay?"

John resisted the urge to sigh. "One of my men is running around Atlantis, armed and dangerous, believing everyone else is the enemy. So, no, I can't say I'm okay."

"I meant your head," Ronon countered, almost sounding amused.

"I know," John drawled. He dropped his hand. "Head hurts but I'll deal." He knew Ronon wouldn't push him if he admitted the truth. He would watch him like a hawk, but he would take John's word that he could do his job. Which, at the moment, was finding the whacked out marine running loose.  
Ronon pointed to the left corridor when they reached the juncture. "We should go this way."

John frowned, curiosity getting the best of him. "Why?"

"It's where I'd go if I wanted to hole up for a bit," Ronon replied, his tone implying he thought John should have grasped the obvious.

Which he probably should have, but his headache was a bit distracting, as was the ache in his left shoulder blade which had impacted with the wall. Along with his head. "Sounds like a plan," was all he said, turning left. They walked a few yards when John's radio beeped.

"Sheppard here," he replied.

"I think I know what happened with Wordak's life sign," Rodney responded.

John was glad to hear that. "I'm listening," he prompted.

"I think he cut it out," Rodney said, his tone conveying disgust. "A barbaric thing to do, but I read his profile and apparently he's pretty damn smart and cunning."

"Sounds like something he'd do," Ronon confirmed.

John was nodding. "Makes sense and it explains why he took the medkit from the infirmary. Thanks, Rodney." John tapped off only to open a new channel. "Dr. Keller."

A moment of silence then," I'm here, Colonel. Is something wrong?"

A smart retort was on the tip of John's tongue, but he swallowed it and replied, "Have you figured out exactly what's wrong with Wordak and how long it's going to last?" John figured it wouldn't hurt to hope the stuff Wordak's system might work it's way out quick and the marine would go back to normal and they could find him easy and take him back to the infirmary without a fight.

"I did some more testing," Keller replied. "Whatever he inhaled, it's acting as a hallucinagin, which I'm sure you've already figured out. As for how long it's going to last, I can only guess."

"Go for it," John encouraged.

"We're talking hours, given the saturation in his blood stream," Keller stated.

Not what John wanted to hear. He had one more question though. Might as well go for broke. "Can we expect things to follow the usual pattern around here and it'll get worse before it gets better?"

Another heavy silence before Keller replied. "I'd say that's a good bet, Colonel. So you and your men need to be careful."

"Can do," John replied, about to tap off.

"How are you feeling?" Keller interjected, before he could.  
John hesitated, only a moment, before drawling, "Never better. Sheppard out." He tapped off, ignoring the fact that Ronon was gazing at him with an arched brow and a look that shouted liar!.

"This way," Ronon said, pointing west. Unlike some people, he wouldn't hound John or call him on his condition. Not unless he became a liability, which John was okay with.

So they continued west until Ronon came to a sudden halt, going into a crouch. John joined him.

"What did you find?" John asked, because he knew Ronon wouldn't have stopped otherwise.

"Blood." Ronon swiped a finger over a dot on the floor and it smeared over his skin. Sure enough, it was blood. He rose and pointed in front of them. "That way."

John rose also, shifting his grip on his stunner. He had informed everyone to use stunners instead of P-90's or hand guns. He wanted to stop Wordak from hurting anyone, not kill him. As he made to follow Ronon down the hallway, he stumbled a step, hitting the wall and wincing as the pain in his temples spiked.

Ronon stopped as well, turning back to John's side. "You going to make it?"

"I'll make it," John said, grim determination in his tone. He would find Wordak, get him back to the infirmary, then ask Keller for the good stuff. Again. "You think he's close?" It was time to shift the focus off himself.

"My gut's telling me he is," Ronon replied.

Ronon's instincts were seldom wrong and they were spot on yet again. There was a commotion to their right then the spattered bang of gunfire echoing around them.

John dropped to the floor and saw Ronon do the same, only the Satedan let out a grunt as he landed. John was trying to flatten himself against the wall while gauging Wordak's location, but he hissed out, "You okay?" as he fired off a succession of blasts. But he was shooting blind.

"Took a hit," Ronon snarled.

"Where?" John was scooching back, trying to play shield for Ronon even as he craned his neck to study the Satedan. Then he saw it, blood blooming over his left shoulder. "Shit!" John hissed, rolling to his knees to fire off a few more shots when the gunfire abruptly ceased. But John kept his stunner raised.

Only to have a voice demand, "Drop it or the big guy dies!"

John located the direction Wordak's voice was coming from. A cubby like corner section of the corridor. He had cover and no doubt a direct line of sight to target Ronon. So John shifted a bit, trying to shield as much of the Satedan as he could. "Wordak!" he shouted. "I don't want this to get messy! Drop your weapon and we'll end this right now! I'm not the enemy, soldier! I'm Colonel Sheppard your commanding officer and you're on Atlantis!"

"Drop your weapon in five or your friend gets a bullet in the brain!" Wordak shouted back.

John tried to shift again, to cover Ronon's head, but the Satedan pushed him back and even with a bum shoulder, he was strong enough to maneuver John at will. John had a sudden vision of Wordak taking Ronon out with a single shot. After all, the man had been a sniper shooter for SWAT. "Knock it off!" he hissed at Ronon.

Just then Wordak fired a warning shot that ricocheted off the wall next to John's right shoulder. He flinched and, instinctively, fired back, knowing he wouldn't hit his hidden target.

So Wordak reacted with a smoke grenade. It rolled into the center of the corridor.

"Shit!" John hissed, scrambling to his feet. Only to rock off his feet at a sudden flash of blinding light, accompanied by and ear shattering bang. Bastard had added a flash-bang grenade into the mix. John felt himself falling and he was too disoriented to catch himself. He felt hard, jarring his entire body, which meant spiking the pain in his head and everything faded to black.

He came back to his senses to the sound of pacing. Remembering what had happened, John peeled open his eyes and relief washed over him in waves when he saw that Ronon was beside him, eyes open and breathing. But his shirt front was soaked with blood.

"How you doing?" John whispered, his voice sounding like gravel.

"Been better," Ronon replied.

John turned his head, checking the area and he realized Wordak had moved them to a room. He wondered how long he had been out. Before he could ask, booted feet appeared in front of him and John looked up, a long way up, into Wordak's stony face. "We've got a problem, Lieutenant," John drawled, shifting to shit up a bit better against the wall. He wasn't tied up, neither was Ronon, but they were weaponless and Wordak was holding a P-90 steady trained on them.

Wordak crouched down to eye level. "You identified yourself as a commanding officer," he snapped. "You head of this facility?"

"I am," John replied. "And we're on the same team, Wordak. You got sick on a mission -" The back of Wordak's hand connecting with his temple cut John off abruptly. His head reeled and he closed his eyes against the spike of pain that left him feeling nauseous and dizzy.

"Listen, don't talk!" Wordak snarled.

So John did his best to pay attention. "Listening," he whispered.

Wordak stood up, looming over John and looking menacing. "I want out of here, Colonel. You're going to do whatever it takes to get me back to my base. Understand?"

"Got it," John replied, because he didn't want another hit to the head. "I'll take you where you need to go."

"I know." Wordak offered a cold smile. "Because I'm going to give you an incentive." He turned sharply, P-90 aimed at Ronon, finger on the trigger.

John realized Wordak was going to kill Ronon so he flung himself over the Satedan and shouted, "NO!"

Wordak's finger stilled, but his face reddened with Fury as he grabbed John by the shirt front and hurled him across the room.

Skidding across the floor, John hit the wall and went still, the breath knocked out of him. As he tried to orient himself and get on his feet, he saw Ronon surging up, trying to take on Wordak. John knew it would end with Ronon's death. "Freeze!" he shouted, and was relieved when both men obeyed.

Staggering to his feet, John tried to blink the gray spots out of his vision. He knew he had to reach Wordak, knew he had to say the right thing or Ronon was dead. "You want to negotiate your freedom, Soldier, then you need a hostage!" He heard Wordak's sharp intake of breath and knew that meant he had the man's attention. So John forged ahead, thinking on his feet, so to speak. "I'm head of this base, you can't get a better hostage. My people will do whatever it takes to free me."

"Works for me," Wordak replied. "Which means this one is worthless." He targeted Ronon again.

"Kill him and I make your life hell!" John snarled, grabbing Wordak's attention again.

Gun still trained on Ronon, Wordak queried, "How do you figure? I'm calling all the shots. I have the guns."

John managed a shaky smirk. "I have magic," he whispered, closing his eyes and willing Atlantis to play along. He pressed one palm to the wall and willed the doors to open. They slid open smoothly.

Wordak looked stunned. John could guess why. He had no doubt locked the doors, and even if he hadn't, as far as he knew, John shouldn't have been able to open them without palming the touch pads. Just to shake things up a bit more, John made the lights flicker. He half considered plunging them into darkness, but Wordak still had his gun sighted on Ronon and John didn't want to risk him shooting the Satedan in reaction.

"How did you do that?" Wordak hissed.

"Magic," John repeated. He made the lights steady and closed the door again. "You let Ronon go and I'll cooperate with you as your hostage. You kill him and I take you out right now." John knew he was taking a huge risk, but Ronon looked pasty pale and the blood stain on his shirt was getting better. John had to get him help. Now.

Wodak looked between the two of them then nodded. "Face the wall and put your hands on it," he ordered.

John did as he was told and wasn't the least bit surprised when Wordak strode over, grabbed his wrists and yanked them behind his back before using strip ties. He was then yanked around and shoved against the wall. Which did not help the pain in his temples one bit.

"Let me call for help for Ronon," John requested.

"No!" Wordak shot back.

John felt anger rush through him. "If he dies, game over!" Not that this was a game, but he knew Wordak would get the message.

Fumbling in one pocket, Wordak pulled out an ear piece and tapped it before pressing it to John's ear. "Say what has to be said only," he warned.

"McKay here!" Came Rodney's curt voice.

"Sheppard here," John replied. "Ronon is down, sixth level, east corridor. Track him and get him to the infirmary."

There was a moment of taut silence then Rodney asked, "What about Wordak?"

Wordak broke his silence."I'm here and ready to negotiate. I have Colonel Sheppard as hostage. I'll be in touch." He tapped off, grabbed John by the arm and shoved him towards the door.

As they passed Ronon, John made eye contact with the Satedan. He was relieved when Ronon nodded, reassuring John that he would be okay. Then he was shoved forward again, wincing as his aching body protested, before being dragged out the door. "Where to now?" John asked.

Wordak's reply was to yank him towards the nearest transporter and shove him against the wall.

John leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Then he prayed to whatever deity was listening for some good karma to come his way.

**THE END…of part 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 8******

"Sooo…where are we going?" John asked, as Wordak pushed him down the hallway. Which was getting highly annoying, because every push was jarring and made him stumble, which made his body ache and the pain in his temples spike, to the point where he was starting to feel nauseous and dizzy. Factors he was trying hard not to reveal to his captor. John had to keep reminding himself that Wordak was under the influence of alien pollen and, therefore, not liable for his actions. But it wasn't easy. Not when he was tied up and getting pushed around by one of his own men. A man who had shot Ronon in the shoulder, no less.

"Shut up!" Wordak snarled, gripping John by the arm this time and hauling him along at a speed that forced John to just about run. So not fun.

To John's relief, then reached a T in the corridor and Wordak paused. They were on a sublevel that John knew well. And since he still had his tracker implant, he knew Rodney would have their location. He just hoped Wordak didn't start thinking about that.

Which was a hope in vain, because even as John was thinking about it, Wordak was shoving him into a nearby room and pushing him to the floor. Then he was crouching down and pulling out a knife and the med kit.

"What's going on?" John asked, trying to keep his heart from speeding up in his chest as he watched Wordak take an alcohol pad and wipe down his knife blade.

"Gotta make sure we're not followed," Wordak replied, shoving John onto his side and pressing a knee into his hip to old him down.

John felt fingers searching his forearm and he couldn't move with his wrists bound, nor with Wordak's heavy weight holding him. The man weighed a ton. "You don't have to do that," John protested. "I can use my magic to stop anyone from tracking us." He was starting to feel fear and desperation, because Wordak had the knife point pressing into the inside of his forearm and it was starting to hurt.

There was a moment where the knife point eased away, but then Wordak was leaning down to hiss," Bet you could, Colonel, freak that you are! But you're the enemy so I don't trust you to do as you say and you have no way of proving to me that you did it."

"Shit," John muttered, because Wordak had a point, but mostly because the knife point was now digging into his flesh and he went rigid as pain flared through him. He didn't dare move because he didn't want his arm sliced to shreds, but damn if the pain didn't bring tears to his eyes, all the more so as he felt thick fingers digging under his skin. Being so tense made his prior aches and pains ratchet up about twenty notches, and he had to swallow hard to keep down the bile that was pooling in his throat. Last thing he needed to do was throw up right now. But Wordak was pressing into him harder, his heaviness crushing his lungs and making it hard to breathe so that John couldn't help but feel like he was starting to suffocate, and that was sending ripples of panic through him.

Just when he thought for sure he was going to cry out, pass out and puke all at the same time, the pressure was lifted and the pain eased from excruciating to merely agonizing and John felt himself almost panting in relief. He could feel something pressed against his arm, which he figured was a cloth to stop the bleeding. Then something cool was spread over the wound, then more pressure, then what felt like a bandage, then he was being shifted to sit against the wall and his vision blurred a moment. John closed his eyes and when he opened them, Wordak was staring at him.

"You hide your pain like a true soldier," the Marine said, with respect in his tone.

"Go me," John slurred, feeling a bit punch drunk at the moment. His ribs ached, his temples throbbed with pain, but his arm beat them all out at the moment. He felt like he'd been stabbed with a white-hot burning fire poker.

Wordak was still watching him. But after a moment he seemed to shake out of his stance and moved to strip off the plastic gloves John hadn't even realized he'd put on. Gloves covered in blood. Then the medkit was packed up and tucked into Wordak's vest, then he was reaching down to haul John to his feet.

"We have to keep moving," Wordak stated, pretty much dragging John to the door.

It took a moment for John to get his feet under him and his knees felt like jelly as he fought against the dizziness that made him want to crumple to the floor and curl up into a ball. But he managed to stagger along as Wordak shoved at him. Then he stumbled down the corridor, which bled into another and another and then they were in another room and John sank to the floor. He would have given anything for a shot of Keller's good pain drugs at this moment. Oblivion would be heavenly about right now. But he didn't have the luxury. Wordak was a loose canon and he had yet to tell John what he was planning next.

Apparently the funky plant gave mind reading abilities along with hallucinations, because Wordak suddenly spat out," I want to talk to your leader! It's time to negotiate."

"Ask for McKay," John reminded, as he half crawled to the nearest wall and slumped against it for support. He felt like he'd been run over by a damn tank.

"McKay," Wordak echoed, as he paced around the room. Looking tense but never dropping his gun arm. He sounded almost wistful.

John gazed at him through bleary eyes, wondering if maybe things were finally turning in his favor and Wordak was starting to remember. "McKay is the man. He'll give you want you want and we can end this right now."

But Wordak shook his head. "There's no easy fix to this, Colonel! I'm trapped behind enemy lines. I know you're not just going to let me walk out of here."

So that would be a no, John thought to himself, then he muttered, .You'd be surprised," He felt his eyes drifting closed even as Wordak stopped pacing.

There was a click sound then Wordak's voice booming," I want to talk to McKay! Now!"

Instantly, Rodney's voice filled the room. "McKay here! You ready to talk?"

John thought he sounded nervous. But first things first. "I want to know about Ronon," he hissed to Wordak. "Or I'll make sure all bets are off."

"Sheppard wants to know about Ronon," Wordak complied, but he didn't look happy about it.

"He's in surgery!" Rodney snapped. "Now what do you want? I'm a busy man!"

Wordak snorted at that, sounding almost amused. "I want out of here, McKay. You have three hours to make that happen. I'll call back in one hour for an update." He clicked off, cutting off Rodney's sputtering, and moved to John's side. "Get up, we're moving again. Can't stay in one place."

But John was done with moving. He knew he wasn't up to walking another step and he refused to be dragged. The moment they'd entered the room he'd locked the door. Opening his eyes he stared up at Wordak and said, defiantly," Not moving. You can make your stand here."

"Get up!" Wordak snarled, grabbing John by the arm, his sore arm, and hauling him upright.

Biting back a cry of pain, John let himself be dragged to the door. He couldn't hide a smirk when Wordak touched the pad and nothing happened. "Told you I wasn't going," John said, speaking through gritted teeth. Damn if his entire body wasn't throbbing or burning with pain and he was pretty sure he was long past due one, if not two, meal times. Not that he was feeling hunger, but he knew his body needed the fuel.

Wordak almost screamed in outrage, shaking John as if he were a rag doll and sending bursts of pain flaring through him, almost causing him to black out. "Open the door!" Wordak bellowed.

"No," John whispered, almost whimpering in relief when his arm was released and he was allowed to slump to the floor. He resisted the urge to curl up into a ball. Never show weakness was his motto. He knew Wordak was trained to use it against the enemy, and right now he considered John the enemy. So he tried to sit up as best he could with his wrists bound behind him and his body burning with pain.

Which wasn't the smartest move he'd ever made, since Wordak seemed to take it as an invitation to back hand him into the floor.

John's head exploded with pain and darkness swirled around him but he fought against it. He managed to cling to consciousness long enough to whisper, "This…is as good…a place for…for a last…stand…as any." He couldn't get his eyes to focus well enough to see if Wordak got the message, but it became a moot point as darkness claimed him.

**THE END…of part 8**


	9. Chapter 9

TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy  
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them  
RATING: T  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere  
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

**THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 9**

The sound of scuffling footsteps brought John back to the land of consciousness. Blinking his eyes a few times, he brought the pacing form of a huge marine into focus. Oh yeah, hostage situation with him being the hostage. He twisted his hands and found them still bound together behind his back. The movement initiated a round of tingling in the numb appendages, eliciting a low groan. Wordak whirled around, his gun trained fully on the pilot. John froze.

"Take it easy, Lt. I'm just trying to get the feeling back in my hands." John was relieved to find the soldier letting the gun drip once he saw his hostage wasn't going anywhere.

"Just don't move from that spot and you'll stay alive. McKay has a few more minutes and then I'm going to have to try another approach."

John began trying to push himself up to a sitting position. "Look, if . . . " A sharp pain sliced through his head as John raised up, resulting in his sinking back to the hard floor. Eyes tightly closed, he pushed the side of his face against the cool surface as he sought to escape the pain and the nausea it had stirred up. It was several minutes before the level dropped off enough he could function again. He opened his eyes to find Wordak squatted a few feet away, watching him intently.

"Colonel?" Wordak almost sounded worried, which gave John a brief flash of hope.

"Lt. Wordak?" John whispered roughly. "Don't guess . . . you remember me yet?"

Wordak's eyes darkened. "I remember I'm caught behind enemy lines and that you're my hostage. What about you? Do _you_ remember?"

John sighed and closed his eyes again. "Yeah . . . unfortunately. Today really sucks."

Wordak stood back up and resumed pacing. "I know what you mean."

John held his breath and managed to squirm around until he was upright, a feat that made his head swim and his stomach threaten to rebel. The pilot took in a series of shallow breaths as he fought not to puke in front of his captor. The room suddenly felt too warm and dark spots danced around the room for a few seconds. When things finally settled, he noted that Wardak was back to pacing nervously. John noticed that his captor was also sweating, his face slightly flushed.

"Maybe you should sit down, Lt. You don't look too great."

"I'm fine, Colonel, and don't try to play your mind games with me. _You're_ the one who looks like he's about to pass out."

"Yeah? Well let me throw you against a wall and then smack you in the side of the head a few times before digging around in your arm with knife and _then_ let's see how well you feel!" John snapped. His head was killing him and his arm still throbbed and he just wanted this to end. He was tired of playing nurse maid to a soldier wacked out on some alien pollen high. The smug grin on Wordak's face was not doing his disposition any good. "It's going to be real hard not to give you permanent latrine duty when you come down off this stuff."

"That might be possible if you were my CO."

John sighed, a low growl intruding on the breath he blew out. "I _am_ your CO. You're in Atlantis. This is our home, our base. I'm the military commander right now, at least until Colonel Carter gets back. Do you at least remember her?"

"Save your fairy tales," mumbled Wordak, but he frowned and rubbed his forehead as if trying to think.

"Look, you went to a planet with Lorne, your –"

"What?" Wordak snapped as his head jerked up, eyes glaring at John. "How did you know my commanding officer's name?"

John froze for a second. "Lorne?"

"Yes," he replied, the gun coming back up to train on John.

"I, uh, think you mentioned it earlier. So, this Lorne, he's your commanding officer? Is that where you need to get back to?"

"That's where I'm _going_ to get back to."

John tried to think. Wordak remembered Lorne for whatever reason and he knew that could work to his advantage. He wished his head didn't hurt so badly. It made it hard to get a coherent thought going. Leaning back against the wall behind him, he tilted his head back to rest it against the hard surface. Sounds faded in and out for a few moments as he tried to concentrate.

"Let me have the radio," John said suddenly. "I need to talk to McKay."

Wordak stopped pacing and stared at John as if he'd lost his mind. "You seem to forget who's in charge."

John narrowed his eyes. "Do you want to get out of here and go home? If you do, then let me talk to McKay."

The marine looked unsure for a moment, but finally got out the radio and turned it on. "McKay, you there?" He paused a moment, listening to something on the other end. "Sheppard wants to say something to you." He kneeled down beside the pilot, glaring at him. "If I don't like what you say, you'll regret trying to trick me," he said plainly as he put the radio up to Sheppard's face.

"McKay, it's me."

"_Colonel, are you all right? Well, of course you're not all right, you're being held hostage. I mean has he done anything to you? You aren't bleeding everywhere or anything are –"_

"McKay! Get a grip. I'm fine. Listen, Lt. Wordak just wants to go home. I don't think he means us any harm." John raised his brows at Wordak in a silent question. The Lt. shook his head. "Right, he isn't here to hurt us, he just wants to go home. Maybe you could contact his commanding officer, Major Lorne, and see if we could arrange for that?"

"_What? What are you . . . oh. . . oh, right, okay. I'll uh, just see if we can arrange that. Good idea . . . right, this could work."_

"McKay?"

"_Okay, okay! Just give me a minute. I'll let you know when I've talked to Lorne."_

John nodded to Wordak, who was looking extremely suspicious. "You don't honestly think I believe you'll just let me go, do you?" he asked as he lowered the radio.

"Why wouldn't we? As long as you leave peacefully, we have no need for you."

The marine scowled at John, shaking his head. "No . . . enemy soldiers wouldn't do that . . . just let me go like that. Something's wrong."

Taking a deep breath to make himself appear more calm than he felt, John continued to push the pain from his body to the back of his mind. "Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We aren't bad people. I'm sure this was all a big mistake. And you have me as your hostage. They won't try anything against you as long as I'm with you. We can do this."

His expression softening just a little, Wordak chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "What about you? What do we do with you when I'm back home, with my own people?"

"You could let me go . . . to return to my people."

"You would trust me to do that?"

John looked down at the front of his blood-covered shirt, mostly dry now. He glanced over his shoulder at his bound hands, now almost completely numb, before looking back up at Wordak. This time he tried to maximize his weakness. "I don't seem to have much choice in the matter."

Before the burly soldier could respond, the radio chirped. Wordak answered. "Is this McKay?"

John was surprised when the man held the radio out so he could hear. _"Yes, yes, this is McKay. We managed to get hold of Lorne and he has agreed to the transfer. The minute you are back at your base, he has agreed to return Colonel Sheppard to us. Do you agree to these terms?"_

Wordak looked relieved. "Yes, I agree."

"_That means you leave him alone. He better not come in here damaged."_

Wordak looked at John. "Might be a little too late for that one, but as long as he's good, I won't do anything else. That part will be up to him."

"Let's just do this," John growled. He was surprised to discover that he wanted nothing more than a clean bed in the infirmary and enough to drugs to be pretty oblivious to everything for at least a few hours. Or maybe days.

"We're on our way," the marine said firmly. "Make sure we are not intercepted."

"_Done."_

"Come on, Colonel. Looks like I'm going home." Wordak stood and before John could react, the soldier grabbed him by the upper arm and jerked him to his feet.

The world swirled out in a harsh blare of white pain and vertigo, accented by blood rushing in his ears. When John came back to himself, he was being manhandled across the room. "Unlock the door!" the marine demanded loudly, his body almost shaking with pent up energy.

John obeyed, ready to end this little trip down into the depths of hell. Wordak pushed him into the hall and John crashed into the wall, using the surface to stay on his feet. "Didn't your mom . . . teach you not to shove?" he asked breathlessly.

"Walk!" Apparently Wordak's patience was at an end.

With his shoulder brushing the wall for support, John began a staggering gait down the hall. Wordak refused to use the transporter they came to at the end of the hall, afraid it was some kind of trap. So they walked all the way back to the control room, a trip that took almost forty minutes and the last of John's energy. His vision had tunneled by the time they entered the gateroom, his only thought that of putting one foot in front of the other.

Tripping as they entered the room, John went to his knees, jolting his body painfully and arching his headache into the stratosphere. For a moment, he was sure he was going to vomit.

"Sheppard!"

The voice cut through the fog that had filled John's brain, bringing him out of his stupor. He looked up to see Rodney standing where Elizabeth used to and for a moment, he wondered where she was. It hit him a few seconds later like a slap in the face. "I'm okay," he said gruffly.

A big, meaty hand encircled his arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Get up, Colonel, you aren't keeping me from going home."

"Leave him alone," Rodney yelled. "Can't you see he can barely stand. You hurt him and the deal is off."

"McKay!" John drawled. He was glad Rodney was playing along, but he didn't want him overacting and ruining the plan. John was almost free.

"I want to talk to Lorne before we go any further. I don't trust you," demanded Wordak, practically holding John up as they stood in front of the gate. He made sure everyone in the room could see the gun he had pressed to the side of John's neck.

"We figured you would," said Rodney. "Dial up Major Lorne," he told Chuck.

The wormhole whooshed into place a few seconds later. Chuck nodded to Rodney, who began to speak. "Major Lorne, this is Atlantis."

Lorne's voice filled the room. "Atlantis, this is Major Lorne. I understand you have one of my men."

"Yes, we do and we'd like nothing more than to give him back. He's been a lot of trouble."

"Lt. Wordak can be like that if you're not on his good side. Is he all right?"

Rodney almost rolled his eyes and John hoped Wordak hadn't caught the intent of his movement. "He's fine, a lot better than two of our men. He's coming through with Colonel Sheppard, but we want the Colonel sent back immediately. If he doesn't come through quickly enough for us, we come after you. Is that clear?" Rodney crossed his arms smugly as he stiffened his body as if at attention.

"We'll send him back. We have no need of your man, we only want Lt. Wordak back. We're ready when you are."

Rodney nodded down to Wordak. "Okay, you're clear to go through. Just remember to shut it down and let Colonel Sheppard dial back to us to come home."

"You have my word," the marine promised. He shifted until he had John by the back of his collar with one hand, the gun shoved into the Colonel's neck with the other as they marched toward the worm hole.

When they emerged on the other side, John stumbled, his legs almost giving way after the wild ride through space on what was probably a double concussion. He saw Lorne waiting for him on the other side and hoped that meant his adventure was almost over. That hope escalated when the gun left his neck, along with the strong grip on his collar that had bordered on strangling him.

"Major Lorne," Wordak said from behind him.

"Lt. Wordak," Lorne said with a grimace. "You'll understand all this later."

One of the marines near Lorne brought up a stunner and fired it. John flinched, but the blast went behind him and he heard a muffle thump at what could only be Wordak collapsing into a heap. Lorne stepped forward to stand right in front of his CO.

"Sir, if you don't mind my saying, you look like crap. I'm sorry about all this. We had no idea."

John finally allowed himself to turn and look at Wordak. One of Lorne's men was disarming him and straightening out his limbs. Turning back to Lorne, John gave a little shoulder shrug, all he could do with his hands still bound behind him. "Not your fault Lorne and I have a pretty good idea what I look like. I really . . . I don't think I feel much better . . . than I look," John said as the dark spots in his vision finally joined together to blot out all the light. He wasn't even aware of falling.

**THE END…of part 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER...part 10**

John came awake in degrees. The first thing he became aware of was a familiar scent. Without opening his eyes he knew he was in the infirmary. Which nudged him further towards full consciousness. Which was when he became aware of pain radiating throughout his body. He was pretty sure every damn inch of him hurt, only it was a dulled pain at the moment. More an irritating ache than anything. Which meant Keller had him on the good drugs.

Shifting slightly made John aware of the IV in the back of his left hand and the dreaded catheter. Which meant he'd been out of it for a while. Reluctantly, John opened his eyes, blinking hard to bring his surroundings into focus. After a moment he heard a familiar voice and found himself looking into Rodney's concerned face. "Hey," John croaked.

"You're awake," Rodney replied, being Captain obvious.

"Kinda," John muttered, before choking on the dryness of his throat and coughing hard enough to make his entire body ping with pain.

Rodney looked panicked. "I'll get Keller!"

John reached for his arm, catching him enough to get Rodney's attention. "W-wa-ter," he choked out.

A moment later Rodney had the glass and was supporting John so he could take a few sips. It helped ease the dryness and the coughing faded away. The body ache was still with him though, as he slumped back against the pillows.

"You okay, Sheppard?" rumbled Ronon's voice to the left of him.

"I should be asking you that," John countered, turning his head to eyeball the Satedan. He was relieved to see Ronon was lying stretched out on the bed next to him, fully dressed. That meant he wasn't seriously injured. Although it might mean that he'd just been out of it longer than he thought. "How long?" John queried.

Ronon shrugged, wincing a bit. "About two days."

"Wordak?"

"He's fine. Feeling guilty though." Ronon looked pleased.

Rodney huffed, "He should feel guilty. For eternity!"

John sighed softly, giving himself a moment to gather his strength before replying. "It wasn't his fault, Rodney. He was under the influence of toxins. Is he here?" John gazed around he infirmary but it looked like he was the only patient.

"He got released yesterday," Ronon replied.

"Oh." John looked at Rodney. "Would you get him for me?" John knew they needed to talk. He didn't want Wordak wallowing in guilt. He just hoped he could stay awake long enough to talk to him. As hard as he tried to keep his eyes open, John could feel his eyelids drooping.

Rodney patted him on the leg. "Next time you wake up, maybe I'll get him for you. Maybe."

Ronon snorted and John opened his eyes just in time to see the big guy make a face at Rodney. Which he would have laughed at, had he been able to scrounge up the energy for it. Instead he let his eyes close again.

"Sleep well, Sheppard," Ronon rumbled.

A heartbeat later, John was asleep.

OoO

Feeling his heartbeat accelerate, John jolted awake, eyes wide open and gasping to catch his breath. He shook his head, ignoring the ache in his temples, as he tried to banish the nightmare images in his head. Bad enough having to live through killing his superior officer, it really sucked reliving it over and over again and having Sumner wake up from the dead to haunt him for it.

"Colonel?"

John startled at the sound of Keller's voice right beside him. He blinked at her then managed a shaky grin. "Hey, Doc. What's up?"

She wrinkled her nose at him, even as she grabbed for a wrist. "Apparently, you are."

"Nice come back," John approved, falling quiet as she took his vitals.

"Nightmare?" Keller guessed, after finishing with his pulse rate.

John shrugged. "Just a little one. What time is it?"

Keller glanced at her watch. "Almost six am. How are you feeling?"

"Better." John was a bit surprised that he meant it. He was still achy all over but mostly he felt lethargic from too much sleep and being in bed for a couple of days. "I could eat," he stated, knowing it would please Keller. "And I'd pretty much give my right arm for a shower."

"Food and a shower sounds more than doable," Keller allowed. "But you eat first while I contact Ronon. You're not showering alone. You were very sick for a time, Colonel. You developed an infection and your fever spiked for a bit. We were worried."

John sighed. "Sorry about that. Hey, can you give me a radio?"

Keller eyed him with suspicion. "What for?"

"I need to contact Rodney to bring Wordak to see me," John explained, and he could tell by the look on Keller's face that she understood why. "I don't want him blaming himself."

"Too late for that." Keller went about removing John's IV, for which he was grateful. "I've tried to get him to talk to me about what happened," she continued, "But he's not ready to listen to reason. Ronon even tried talking to him."

John winced at the very thought of it. Ronon was pretty damn blunt at the best of times, even though his heart was always in the right place. "How did that go?"

Keller shrugged before swiping an alcohol pad over the back of John's hand then smoothing a band aid over the site where the needle had been. "He said Wordak understood what he was saying, but he didn't' believe it."

"That's why I need to talk to him." John felt a bit anxious about it. Wordak was a good man and he didn't want the guy to suffer for something that had been out of his control. But the Pegasus galaxy had a way of messing with a person. John had way too much personal experience in that regard. "So...can I have a radio?" he prompted.

"No." Keller was blunt but almost smiling. "You rest and I'll have breakfast sent in. I'll contact Wordak myself and make sure he comes to see you after your shower. How's that sound?"

John could accept that, although he had one more request. "Can I get out of here today?"

Keller snorted with laughter at that. "You're a funny man, Colonel. I'll go take care of breakfast." With that she wandered off.

Leaving John to mutter to himself, "Guess that's a no?"

OoO

John had his breakfast, which consisted of a half slice of toast, because anything more would have made him throw up. But Keller seemed to have expected that and didn't complain. Instead she made sure Ronon was available to help John with his shower, which ended up with the big guy sitting in the room and whittling. It bugged John that Ronon seemed back to himself already after being shot. But then again, that always happened and it always bugged him. At times Ronon was like the Terminator or something.

Once showered, John was relieved to dress in scrubs before making his way back to bed. He was actually happy to crawl in and draw the covers up. Showering had wiped him out again and Keller informed him that was because he still had a low grade fever that was a tenacious bastard.

After chuckling at that, John queried, "What about Wordak? Is he coming?"

"He said he would come after he did inventory," Keller replied.

"Should he be back to work already?" John asked.

Keller shrugged. "It keeps his mind occupied. Physically he's fine though. So no worries there."

Which was a relief to John. "So when will he be done with inventory?"

"He said after lunch some time." Keller fussed with John's blankets for a moment. "Why don't you rest up till then, Colonel?"

"I've been resting for days," John complained. But before he could bitch further, a surprise visitor appeared. "Teyla!" John exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled as she moved to him, bending awkwardly as she leaned in to touch foreheads. Her belly kind of got in her way. But she managed and she let one hand linger on John's shoulders as she studied him. "Rodney contacted me to let me know what happened and I chose to return." She held up a hand to silence John's protest. "I had a lovely time, but I wished to come home."

John liked the sound of that, because Atlantis was Teyla's home now, just as it was his. "For the record, I'm fine. Everything is good, so don't' worry, okay?"

"I will try not too," Teyla allowered, accepting the chair that Ronon procured for her, and settling into it.

And it was in that very moment that the lights went out.

**THE END...of part 10**


	11. Chapter 11

**THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER...part 11**

"What the . . . someone give me their radio," John demanded as the emergency lights came on.

"I am sorry, I did not bring mine," replied Teyla, looking around the room as if expecting some kind of attack.

"I don't have mine either," said Ronon.

"Oh, for the . . . fine, I'll get one myself." John threw back the covers and began climbing out of bed. Teyla immediately reached out and began trying to push him back against the pillows.

"John, Rodney will handle it. You need to stay in bed."

"Not while my city is coming apart," John snapped, pushing Teyla's hand away so he could get to his feet. The _I'm in charge _look he was going for faltered when he had to lean against the bed for support during a dizzy spell.

"Colonel Sheppard, you need to get in bed." Keller was quickly approaching the bed, her voice and expression leaving no doubt that she was telling, not asking.

"I need to contact Rodney and find out what's going on," John insisted. He was supposed to be in charge, or did no one remember that.

"I just spoke to him and he assured me that he and Radek were working on the situation and for you to stay put. Now back in bed."

Frowning, John shook his head. "If Rodney's working on the power problem, then I need to be in the control room handling problems. I _need _to be doing my job, not lying around. I'm fine."

"You're not _fine _Colonel. You're running a fever and recovering from several pretty hard hits, not to mention having that transmitter cut out of your arm. You need rest."

John took a deep breath to settle his heart rate and give him a moment to organize his thoughts. Looking up at Keller, he let his determination show in his expression and tone. "Look, there are going to be a lot of worried people and probably some secondary problems popping up all over the city. Someone needs to be in the control room to calm people down and handle things. It needs to be someone with experience that everyone will trust to see them through this. It needs to be me. I'm going up there. Period."

Keller chewed her lower lip, the indecision written all over her young face. John decided to take advantage of her doubt. "Look, I'll sit down in a nice comfy chair and be back as soon as Rodney gets this fixed. It'll be fine_. I'll_ be fine."

With a big, exaggerated sigh, Keller finally nodded. "Okay. But you come back here the minute the city is fixed." She then turned to Ronon. "Let me know if he gets to feeling worse."

"Okay, Doc. I'll watch him," Ronon promised.

"I'm sending someone barely out of the infirmary themselves to keep an eye on the Colonel. Why does this not sound like a good idea?" Keller shook her head with a grimace.

"I will keep an eye on both of them," suggested Teyla with a slight nod.

"Thank you," replied Keller. She looked up to John. "I'll get your clothes. I think laundry services returned them a little while ago."

oOo

John contacted Rodney on the way to the control center. Keller had managed to scrounge up a radio for him while he was getting dressed. "Rodney, what's going on?"

"_Sheppard? Is that you? I told Jennifer to keep you in the infirmary."_

"I'm not that banged up, Rodney. Besides, someone needs to be in the control room to handle stuff. You know some of the members of the scientific community are bound to be scared witless and on the verge of panic. I figure there's group panicking about the lack of leadership as we speak."

Silence reigned for a few moments before Rodney spoke. _"Okay, you've got a point. Just sit down and look authoritative and try not to pass out on anyone. That kind of unravels the 'I'm in charge' look you'll be going for_."

"Thanks for the advice, Rodney," John said sourly. "Now, back to my original question, the one you so deftly ignored. What the hell is going on?"

"_We aren't sure yet, but we've eliminated all the potentially life or city-threatening possibilities. We think there's a glitch in the power grid, probably from where we shifted some things around last week. It just takes time to track down exactly where the glitch is."_

"So we aren't about to accidently initiate the self-destruct or anything, right?"

"_Isn't that what I just said? You really should try listening sometime, Colonel."_

John ignored the biting comment. "What about gate functions?"

"_Uh, gate is still functional . . . not sure about the shield."_

"McKay!"

"_Contrary to popular belief, yelling at me doesn't change the situation, nor does it make it my fault. Now go away. I have work to do." _It may have been John's imagination, but the click of Rodney signing off sounded unusually loud. Rodney had metaphorically slammed the phone down on him. Ronon looked at him funny when he chuckled.

As they rounded the corner to enter the control room, the sound of several people babbling and arguing assaulted them, leading John to rub his forehead. Had he really insisted on coming here? Pushing his headache aside, he straightened his posture and strode through the room. Three scientists, two men and one woman, were questioning Chuck, all at the same time. The poor gate tech looked completely baffled as he tried to figure out what they were saying. The look of relief on his face when he saw John approaching made John smile a little, confirming that he had made the right decision.

"Is there a problem?" John asked, stopping right in front of Chuck's console. The three people turned to him, looking surprised.

"Colonel?"said Dr. Johnson, a petite red-headed zoologist. "The power is off in our labs and we were wondering what was going on. Are we under attack?" she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"No, nothing like that. I just spoke with Dr. McKay and he said it's simply a glitch in the power grid. He and Dr. Zelenka will have it repaired soon. I think it's best if you waited in your quarters, or maybe somewhere like the mess hall. Think of it as a prolonged break. There is absolutely nothing to worry about." John finished with a smile, trying to use his most comforting tone of voice. It apparently worked.

"Yes, all right," said Dr. Johnson, looking a little more relaxed. The two men with her also seemed to settle down a bit. "Maybe the mess hall. We could see if they have any cookies left," she suggested to the others.

"Sounds like a good idea," encouraged John.

"Thank you, Colonel," said the taller of the two men and then the three people headed for the mess hall. Chuck looked up at John.

"Thanks for the rescue, Colonel."

John gave him a quick nod. "Glad to be able to assist. Does the city wide intercom work?" John thought it might be good to suggest that everyone stay put and not panic.

"No, 'fraid not."

"Great," John muttered. "Okay, guess I'll hang out here and trouble shoot then. Anything else going on?"

"Not at the moment, sir."

"John, you should sit down."

Turning at the sound of Teyla's voice, John realized he'd forgotten about his guards. "I'm fine," he blurted out, cringing at the looks the two of them flashed him. "Okay, fine. I'll just . . . be in Carter's office if any more problems come up." He took a few steps and then turned back around. "Well, are you guys coming or are you just going to stand around out here?"

Ronon gave him a knowing grin and Teyla just rolled her eyes. Over the next hour, they fielded questions from several more worried personnel. John's energy was on a quick downhill slide and his headache was beginning to escalate when the distinctive sound of the gate activating brought him quickly to his feet. A little too quickly, since the room did a brief dance around him.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!" yelled Chuck.

"Who?"asked John as he pushed past Ronon's helping hand and made his way quickly over to Chuck. He was well aware of his body guards right behind him.

"It's Sgt. Meyers' IDC, sir and there's audio coming through."

"This is Meyers!" came the voice over John's headset. He could hear the sound of yelling and gunfire in the background. "We're coming in hot! Be ready . . . Basset, get your ass through the gate . . . be ready to shut her down as soon as we're through."

Before he had finished speaking, several beams from Wraith stun guns screamed across the gateroom. Security teams spread across the floor of the embarkation room tried to dodge the incoming fire, with one soldier dropping as he was struck full in the chest. Two marines stumbled through the gate, backing away to either side to make room for their teammates. There was a muffled blip as Myers staggered through the gate, dragging Dr. Kerrin's limp form across the room.

"Shut it down," John called. The puddle continued to shimmer, several more Wraith blasts flaring in their journey across the room. "Chuck!"

"It won't shut down, Colonel, and the shield won't come up."

John ran down the stairs, Ronon and Teyla one step behind him. As they reached the bottom of the steps, three Wraith came through the gate, guns up and firing. "Crap," John muttered. He reached for his gun, only to realize he didn't have it with him. The nursing staff had turned his weapons over to the armory and in his haste to get to the control center, he hadn't replaced it. "Double crap!"

Security was firing at the three space vampires, but one still broke away to go for Dr. Kerrin, who had been laid out at the edge of the room. Confusion was rampant with all the firing going on in the relatively small space and people scurrying around trying to avoid getting hit. Unarmed, John did the only thing he could think of. He ran at the large creature and tackled it as it stood poised to feed over the unconscious scientist. The two rolled across the floor and he heard Ronon calling to him to get out of the way. They exchanged a few blows before the Wraith finally knocked John away, probably thinking he would overtake the pilot and feed on him. Instead he was hit with multiple red bursts from Ronon's gun, dropping him to the floor.

Ronon walked over to stand over the male, kicking him with his boot in the side. Grinning, he looked at John. "He's dead." That was when John noticed the gunfire had stopped and the other two Wraith also appeared dead. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of the gate shutting down.

"_Now_ it shuts down," John said with a sigh. Bringing his hand up, he rubbed his face. When he dropped his arm back to his side, a hand was thrust at him. Looking up, he gave a small nod and accepted Ronon's hand up to his feet.

"You're bleeding," the Satedan commented.

The bandage covering his forearm was red with blood that had soaked through. "It figures." At the sound of movement, he turned around in time to see medical teams coming through to assess Meyers' team. Chuck had apparently sent for them, making John thankful for competent support staff. John started towards Meyers, stumbling as his legs tried to quit working. Ronon's reflexes allowed him to keep his CO upright.

"Thanks," John mumbled as he locked his knees in place and steadied himself.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," Ronon announced, gripping his uninjured arm firmly.

"Not yet," John said, pulling away. Meyers met him halfway. "What happened?"

Sgt. Meyers ran one hand across his head, leaving a trail of blood in his short, blonde hair. "We were on our way back to the gate when darts appeared out of nowhere. The next thing we knew, we had Wraith on the ground coming after us. Dr. Kerrin took a stunner blast right before we reached the gate. I don't know if they picked us up somehow or if they just happened to be checking the planet. The village we were investigating looked like it had been culled months ago."

"Came back to look for survivors or new settlers," said Ronon from behind John.

John nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably so. You got your people back in one piece, Sgt. You did good. Now get to the infirmary and get yourself checked out."

"Yes, sir," the man said before following the gurney with Kerrin into the adjacent corridor.

"John, perhaps you should –"

Teyla was interrupted by Major Lorne arriving amidst the lingering chaos. "Colonel?" he said, frowning as he studied the gateroom. "What happened, sir?"

John snorted. "What didn't?" he quipped, rubbing the side of his aching head. He was beginning to crave a bed and dark room. Just then the muted emergency lights flickered and suddenly brightened as power was restored. John groaned and squeezed his eyes shut at the increase in intensity. His equilibrium picked that moment to take a short break and he found himself toppling sideways with too little grasp on balance to figure out how to right himself. Strong hands closed around his biceps, pulling him back upright.

"Sheppard?"

"Colonel?"

For a moment all sound converged into a roaring in his ears and John thought he was going to pass out. As suddenly as it came, the vertigo and sound distortion disappeared. Opening his eyes, he found three sets of worried eyes studying him.

"Sorry," John mumbled, pulling away from Ronon as his legs steadied under him. He jumped when the radio in his ear activated and Rodney's voice came through loudly.

"_Colonel, I guess you noticed we got the power fixed. We still have a few loose ends to clean up, but almost everything should be back online. I trust you've kept the panic down to an acceptable level."_

"Yeah, everything's okay here Rodney. Good job."

"_Naturally_," Rodney said smugly.

"Tell Radek I said thanks," John said, smiling at the snort he heard on the other end.

"I can handle things here, sir," said Lorne, staring pointedly at the spreading red stain on the white bandage. "Looks you need some new stitches."

"You did promise Jennifer to return to the infirmary as soon as the power problem was repaired," pointed out Teyla. She had what John thought of as her _do what I say or I'll kick your ass _expression on as she narrowed her eyes.

John looked around the gateroom. There were three dead Wraith, scattered debris from the brief firefight, and medical litter spread across the floor. Security forces were standing over the Wraith bodies, ready in case any of them decided to spring to life. Chuck was tutoring some of the new staff on the proper steps to double check the systems for problems, now that the power was back on.

Switching his gaze to his throbbing, bloody arm, John clasped his hand into a fist and cringed at the pain it stirred up. His headache was now sharp, biting pain instead of a dull ache, and his body was beginning to feel the effects of being knocked around by a Wraith. He dropped his arm and looked up at Major Lorne.

"Thank you, Major. I think I'll take you up on that offer. I'll be in the infirmary if you need me." He didn't even smile at the shocked expressions of the trio as he strolled out of the gateroom and headed for the infirmary.

oOo

"That should do it," said Keller as she pressed the tape down on the bandage. "At least until your next fight with a Wraith." John glanced at the new bandage covering his newly stitched arm.

"Thanks Doc. I'll try to stay away from invading aliens next time."

"I'd appreciate that," Keller said with a smile as she stripped off her gloves. "At least until you've had a chance to get your stitches out. Just relax and I'll get you something to take the edge off the pain. I think your bruises have bruises."

"I think you're right." John closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing him down and making him long for a nap. His whole body seemed to ache between his ordeal with Wordak and then with the Wraith. He was beginning to hate the letter W.

"Here you go, Colonel." John opened his eyes and sat up, taking the two pills and cup of water from Keller. He handed the empty cup over a few seconds later.

"Thanks, Doc. How about I just go rest in my quarters?" John asked, eyeing the scrubs she had set on the edge of the bed.

Keller lifted one eyebrow, something John was pretty sure he'd never seen her do before. "Colonel, you're still running a low grade fever and I'd like to keep an eye on you for a bit longer. Maybe tomorrow, if we get your temperature down and everything else looks okay."

John groaned. "I feel like I've spent more time here than in my quarters. Maybe I should just make this my quarters from now on."

"It's not that bad, Colonel," Keller said. "I know you're frustrated, but things will get better. I'm not compromising on your health."

Running one hand through his hair, John leaned back against the pillows. "I know, it's just . . . I know you're just doing your job, Doc, I just get tired of being out of commission for so long. It seems like I take one step forward and two steps back. I'm sorry about taking it out on you."

Keller placed one hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. I think I understand. Just change back into the scrubs and then try to get some rest, Colonel and I'll do my best to get you out of here quickly."

John nodded briefly. "What about Wordak?"

"I haven't seen him, but I'll check for you."

"Thanks." John closed his eyes and listened to her receding footsteps. He was so tired, he decided to rest for a minute before changing into the scrubs. That would also give the pain meds a chance to kick in so the procedure wouldn't be so . . . painful.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

"Mm?" John yawned and scrubbed his face. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times, bringing Wordak into focus standing beside his bed.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can come back later. I didn't mean to wake you . . . it's just that . . . Dr. Keller said you needed to see me." He swallowed a couple of times and let his gaze drop to his feet.

"At ease, Lt.," John said with a wave of his hand. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but his mouth was dry and his throat felt glued shut. Looking around, he spotted the ever present pitcher of water. He reached for it, but Wordak stepped up and grabbed it, pouring some into a cup and handing it to John. "Thank you," John said before downing half the glass. Clearing his throat, he set the glass down and turned back to the nervous soldier in front of him.

"Colonel Sheppard, sir, I just want to apologize for everything. I don't remember everything but . . . well, sir, I remember enough to know that . . . sir . . . I just wanted to assure you that I truly thought you were the enemy and that I'm really, really sorry."

"Lt., the reason I wanted to see you was to let you know there are no hard feelings. There will be no reprimand or consequences for this. Dr. Keller has informed me that you were under the influence of an alien pollen that acted like a hallucinogen in your system. You were not responsible for your actions."

The man looked hesitant, frowning as if contemplating his next move. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

John nodded. "Go ahead, Lt. Wordak. Say what's on your mind."

"Sir, she told me the same thing, but . . . I don't know. Like I said, I remember some things . . . " The soldier cringed. "Like cutting the transmitter out of your arm. It seems so clear to me now that it was wrong, yet at the time . . . I felt like I was doing what I had to do." He scratched the side of his head. "It's hard to explain. I keep telling myself I couldn't help what I did, but inside I feel like I should have been able to fight it."

Smiling, John snorted lightly. "Oh, I know _exactly_ what you mean. So far I've been taken over by an alien entity that made me destroy parts of the city and lead my friend into a trap that got him shot. I did shoot two team members while hallucinating because of a Wraith device. I almost turned into a bug and injured several people in the process . . . along with getting two good men killed trying to help cure me. Lt. . . . none of these things were directly my fault . . . and I carry the guilt of every single one of them with me every day."

Wordak straightened, his eyes going wide. "I didn't . . . I didn't realize, sir."

John scrubbed his face again, feeling the heaviness in his heart that came whenever the objects of guilt were drug out into the light of day. "I'm not saying you won't feel bad for what happened . . . because it's almost unavoidable. Just remind yourself that it wasn't your fault. It wasn't . . . right?" He looked up at Wordak, who now looked a little scared.

"Did you know you'd have a bad reaction to the pollen on that planet?"

Wordak looked shocked that John would ask such a question. "No sir, how could I?"

"Exactly," said John. "When you started thinking of me as the enemy, did you know you were hallucinating?"

"No, sir . . . of course not."

John nodded, knowing what the man's responses would be. "So, exactly how could you have prevented this?"

Wordak scrunched his brow in deep thought. "Not sure, sir . . . maybe when I first started feeling odd, I could have . . . I don't know, sir. I just keep thinking there was something."

"No soldier, there wasn't. There was no way anyone could have predicted or prevented this. It was a fluke. It happened. We got lucky and this fluke didn't kill or seriously injure anyone. Just remind yourself of all this when you start second guessing yourself and don't let guilt eat you up. You have to learn to see it for what it is and if you can't make it go away, stash it somewhere deep enough you can still function."

Wordak nodded slowly. "Is that what you do, sir?"

John looked at the man and blew out a slow breath. He really didn't want to deal with any of this right now. He wanted to curl up and go back to sleep and stay there for a nice, long while. But it had needed to be done and he thought Wordak looked a little less like he'd lost his best friend, so it had been worth it. Smiling, he closed his eyes. "Dismissed, soldier."

A few seconds later, he heard the soft footfalls of Wordak leaving and then the rest of the sounds of the infirmary slowly faded away.

**THE END...of part 11**


	12. Chapter 12

**THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER...part 12**

To John's relief, Keller released him to his room the next day. But under strict orders to rest. Which he might have blown off if not for Teyla and Ronon shadowing his every move. Teyla followed him right inside, fussing with the bed covers until he got in, then smoothing them down and moving over to the chair in the corner. She had a small bag with her and she pulled out what looked like yarn and a crochet hook.

"What are you doing?" John asked, as he curled up on his side and fought the urge to let his heavy eyelids close. He'd been sleeping for the past two days already and it irked him that he still felt so damn tired.

"One of the botanists has been teaching me how to crochet," Teyla replied, as she smoothed out one of the yarn balls and went to work weaving it over her hook.

John didn't have much to say to that so he watched her for a time before asking, "What are you making?" All she had to show for her efforts at the moment was a small green square.

Teyla made a face as she looked at her handywork. "I am attempting to make a scarf," she replied, a benign smile curving her lips. "I may end up with a pot colder though."

John snorted at her words before gently correcting her. "That would be a pot holder, not colder."

"Ah, thank you. Pot holder," Teyla echoed, before bending her head back to her work. "Go to sleep, John. You will feel better for it."

"I'm tired of sleeping," he protested, fully aware of the fact that he sounded like a whiny two-year old.

With a shake of her head, Teyla set aside her project and moved to the bed. She sat down on the edge, adjusting the blankets over John's shoulder before reaching out to run one hand over his back. "I will sing to you to soothe your soul," she said softly.

And John didn't protest, because he loved the sound of Teyla's voice and - seriously - his soul could use some soothing. So he finally let his eyes drift closed as he listened to her sing. It wasn't long before he felt himself drifting into warm darkness.

OoO

When John woke up he was surprised to find himself alone. Surprised, but pleased. His bladder was screaming at him to get up, so he headed for the bathroom, took care of mother nature, then stepped into the shower. It felt good to shower and scrub his hair clean, then get dressed in his uniform for a days work. Because Keller be damned, he was going back to work today.

As he strapped on his watch, John noticed it was not yet 9am. He could grab a bite to eat then hit the office to catch up on reports. As much as he hated them, he knew they were important. If only at this point so that he could catch up on everything he'd missed. So after strapping on his gun, John headed for the door. He had only gone two steps when Ronon caught up to him.

"You look better," the Satedan commented.

"I feel better," John conceded. "You ?"

Ronon shrugged, not even wincing. "I'm good. I was just coming to see if you were hungry."

John grinned at him. "Starving. Care to join me?" He knew Ronon would have eaten already, but the big guy was always up for a second breakfast.

"I could eat," Ronon drawled, grinning back. He fell into step with John and just before reaching the messhall he had to go and ruin the day. "Keller wants to see you before you go back to work. She ordered me to bring you in if necessary."

"I think I'm the only one here who can give you orders," John countered, somewhat nonchalantly as he headed for the trays in the corner. He grabbed one then loaded up a plate with eggs and toast, snagging a cup of coffee along the way.

Ronon ended up with three times as much food and a tall glass of juice. They sat down before he responded to John's comment. "Keller trumps you when it comes to all things medical. You taught me that." This reminder was delivered with a smirk and a wave of Ronon's fork before he dug into his food.

John sighed, chugging down half his coffee before picking up his own fork. The eggs weren't perfect, but they tasted pretty damn good. A testament to how hungry he was. And it felt good to actually be hungry for a change. He didn't bother replying to Ronon, since it really was a moot point. Instead he plowed through his eggs then asked about anything he might have missed as he finished up his coffee.

"Wordak is still messed up a bit," Ronon replied. "I watched him work out this morning and he's beating himself up more than anything."

"Guess our little talk didn't sink in," John replied. He was a bit worried to hear about Wordak. He was a good soldier and a good man. Sometimes it was hard to stop blaming yourself when shit happened. No one knew that better than John did. He always found a way to move forward, in spite of all his demons. But some people weren't so lucky. John had seen tragedy come out of that fact and he didn't want to see that happen with Wordak. "I'll mention it to Keller and have her send Wordak into therapy."

Ronon looked up from his plate and grunted. "That only works if he wants to talk about it."

John knew what Ronon was getting at. They were alike in that neither of them were big about sharing their feelings. Ronon was like John. He bullied his way through his fears and emotions and didn't let them overcome him. But John had to worry if Wordak had that ability. "Maybe he will talk."

"Maybe." Ronon didn't look convinced as he resumed eating.

"I'm gonna take off," John said, rising to his feet and grabbing his tray. He smiled as Ronon simply waved him off, then he dumped his tray in the bin and headed for Carter's office. He ran into Rodney and Zelenka, both of them grumbling about power fluctuations and the like. But when John asked if there was something he needed to know, they blew him off and continued on their way. Trusting that Rodney would keep him in the loop, John settled down at the desk and went to work.

Twenty minutes into his first report his ear piece beeped. "Sheppard here."

Keller's exasperated voice reached his ears. "Did you get lost, Colonel? Because I don't see you in my infirmary and I know Ronon told you to come see me."

"Crap!" John had forgotten all about it. "Sorry...I got sidetracked," he replied. "I'll stop by in a bit."

"You'll stop by now, Colonel," Keller countered, sounding irate. "Don't make me send Ronon to fetch you." With that she signed off, leaving John gaping in surprise.

Although he knew she meant it about sending Ronon, John devoted his attention to finishing up the report he was in the middle of. If he didn't he'd have to go back through it again and once was enough. But he was wise enough to know not to tempt fate. So once he was done he headed straight for the infirmary and let Keller do her poking and prodding.

She moved stiffly and he could tell she was peeved at him. But she relaxed a bit by the time she finished with his vitals. "Your temperature is back to normal, Colonel. How is your pain level?"

"I'm sore but it's doable," John replied, sitting up carefully and trying not to wince as his stitches pulled a bit from the motion.

"I can give you something for that," Keller replied, digging into her lab coat pocket. She held out a packet. "Take one as needed, but no more than four a day. They won't make you drowsy either, so you don't have to give me a hard time. Okay?"

Since she was being so reasonable, John couldn't help but concede to her. "Okay. Thanks." He slid off the table, pocketed the packet then said, "Do you have a minute to talk about Wordak?"

Keller nodded. "Of course. Is there a problem? Is he sick again?"

"No," John was quick to reassure her, because he could see the fear that flickered in her eyes at the thought of dealing with a spaced out Wordak again. "Physically he's fine. But he's not handling the guilt very well. We talked, but according to Ronon he's not doing so good. I thought maybe you could send him to the shrink. He can't refuse if you make it an order."

"I already asked him about seeing Dr. Fremont," Keller replied. "He wasn't interested. Which means he doesn't want to talk about it. So I can make him go to a session, but I don't know how productive it will be." She eyed John with intent as she spoke.

Which made him squirm beneath her regard, because he knew she was calling him out on his own behavior in that respect. "I could talk to him again," John offered, but he wasn't enthused about it and he explained why. "I just don't want to make things worse."

Keller looked thoughtful for a moment, then she shrugged. "You can relate to what he's been through. Just share that with him. Even if he won't talk about how he's feeling, I'm betting he'll listen."

"I tried that the last time," John protested. "Doesn't seem to have done any good."

"Some people are dense," Keller deadpanned. "You have to keep trying."

John knew she was right, and he figured there was no time like the present. So he thanked Keller, bid her goodbye, then radioed Lorne. "You wouldn't happen to have Wordak's location," John queried, as he strode down the hallway towards the nearest transporter.

Lorne chuckled. "Yes, sir. He's counting inventory in the armory."

"Copy that," John replied, before signing off. As he made his way to the armory, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

**THE END...of part 12**


	13. Chapter 13

**THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER...part 13**

John strolled into the armory and quickly located Wordak, who was carefully checking over a clipboard. The large soldier glanced up, shifting into a straighter position when he saw John. "Sir, can I help you?"

John crossed his arms and leaned his back against the wall. "Looking for you, actually. Just wanted to check in, see how everything's going."

Wordak shifted and looked down at the clipboard, nervously tapping one end of the pen against the edge. "Everything's fine, sir. I was just working on inventory. You know how it gets around here sometimes."

"I know. I figure my team is responsible for at least half of the mayhem that goes on." John watched the man, noting the way he refused to make eye contact. "So, Lt., you okay with what happened? Because I'm getting some intel indicating the opposite."

Wordak sighed, rubbed the side of his head, and then set the clipboard down on the counter. He continued to stare at it for what seemed like forever, but John was prepared to wait until he was ready. Clearing his throat, Wordak looked up at John, finally meeting his eyes. "Sir . . . I was thinking . . . that is to say, I was going to come see you about maybe . . . sir, I think I should be transferred back to Earth."

Arching his eyebrows slightly at the request, John dropped his arms to his sides. "I'd like to hear why you think that's a good idea."

Resignation in his stance and his expression, Wordak gave a slight nod. "Recent events have shown me that I'm not prepared enough to handle the . . . odd situations we find ourselves in with this galaxy. I'm a liability and I'm afraid I'll end up getting someone killed."

"You aren't prepared," deadpanned John. Then he shook his head and chuckled, because honestly, how did anyone ever get prepared for this crap. "Lt. . . . I had never even heard of a stargate until a few weeks before stepping through one to a whole new galaxy. Less than twenty-four hours after getting here, I shot and killed my commanding officer and became the military head of this place. Exactly how prepared do you think I was for any of that? It's not so much a matter of being prepared as learning to adapt and picking up new ways to roll with the punches. Now _that_ I've had a lot of practice at."

Wordak looked frustrated at the stall in his request. "Maybe prepared wasn't the right word, sir. I can't be depended on."

"That's not what Major Lorne tells me. He's given you several excellent evaluations and you've always performed well when we've gone on joint missions. What about a few months ago when we went to P3X-332? That group of bandits attacked the village and you never even flinched. You took out a quarter of them by yourself." John distinctly remembered being impressed with soldier's determination and the way he watched out for the rest of his team, as well as the terrified villagers.

"I'm not saying I'm a coward or anything . . . I just don't feel like I can go out there again . . . not knowing if I'll turn against my team. What if I start hallucinating when Wraith are attacking?" The look of desperation on his face made John wince. In Wordak's position, he might share the same doubts.

"That _is_ an area of concern. However, I've talked to Dr. Keller and she tells me she is working on a treatment for if you come across the same plant again. And I had Teyla and Ronon take a look at it. Neither of them had ever seen it before, which is a pretty good indication that it isn't widespread. Having a reaction to an alien plant doesn't make you a bad soldier, or an untrustworthy one."

Wordak ran one hand through his short hair a few times and then looked back at John. "I still think Atlantis would be better off without me."

John pushed off the wall and paced back and forth a few times. "Look, Wordak, I've been where you are. In a way, I never leave that place. I just . . . you look at what you're doing and what it's worth and you keep going." He stopped and rubbed his face, amazed at the things he was about to say. "In my head, I still see myself shooting a Taliban, but I know I actually shot Rodney. I shot my best friend and I almost killed him." He made himself look at Wordak. He wanted the soldier to see the pain in his eyes, the pain he usually tried to hide. He needed the man to understand this was real, not just some trumped up pep talk. John had been subjected to more than a few of those in his career and he wasn't about to put that show on for someone else.

"I can still see myself sending Ronon out to get shot by Phoebus, knowing there was a good chance he'd be killed. I wanted to stop and I just couldn't make my body obey. At night, sometimes, I hear Thalan begging Teyla to save me over three quarters of the expedition and it's my voice doing the begging."

"Sir . . . I . . . "

"But nothing can compare to the things I did when I was turning into a bug. I see Elizabeth's face in my nightmares, my hand around her throat, choking her . . . the fear in her eyes . . . mauling my own men . . . " He turned to face Wordak, his gut churning and his head now throbbing with tension. "Come on."

He twirled around and left the armory, trying to clear his head as he walked. He wouldn't be sleeping for a long time, not after dragging so much pain out and hanging it up to flap in the wind. He didn't check to see of Wordak was following him or not. He knew the soldier would do as ordered. He knew Wordak a lot better than the soldier realized.

They reached the control room a few minutes later and John walked over to stand at the balcony railing Elizabeth used to haunt. God, he missed her so much. He quickly pushed the emotions down before the resulting cascade completely derailed his mission. Wordak joined him and John waved his hand toward the gate. "What do you see?"

"Uh, the gate?" the soldier said quizzically.

"Right, and what do we use it for?" He knew Wordak was beginning to wonder if his CO had lost it entirely. Good. He wanted him a little off center.

"We, uh, travel to different planets, looking for allies or technology."

"What would you do if I told you and your team to suit up and go on a mission to a planet we know nothing about? Could be friendly or could be deadly."

Wordak frowned, as if confused John would ask such a question. "We'd suit up and go, sir. We do that all the time."

John allowed himself a little smile. "What if I told you to go to a planet that I knew was filled with Wraith and that some of you would probably die?"

"If we need to go, we'll go. I hope you don't doubt that, sir."

"I don't," John said as he stepped away from the balcony and indicated with a nod that Wordak should follow. They silently went to the nearest transporter and emerged a few moments later. John led the way out to the south pier and they walked all the way across the wide expanse until they were just a few feet from the edge. This time John nodded toward the horizon. "What do you see?"

Wordak looked at him like he really was crazy. It might have been funny if John wasn't so frustrated. "Uh, the ocean, sir?"

"What else?"

Wordak squinted into the sun, obviously trying to see if he'd missed something. "The sky? The sun?"

John followed the soldier's eyes and squinted as well. "Any land out there?"

"Well . . . there's the mainland."

John turned to look at Wordak and the sergeant returned his gaze. "Do you _see_ the mainland?"

Confusion spread across the younger man's face. "See it? No sir, you can't see it from here."

"How do you know it's there?"

Now Wordak really looked nervous. "Uh . . . you said it was there . . . that you'd seen it."

"I have, but you haven't. So I repeat, how do you know it's there?"

"Sir, I don't really understand where you're going with this. Is this to point out that I trust you, because I do. I trust you and respect you more than any CO I've ever had. It's not about trusting you, it's about trusting me."

John cocked his head a little to one side. "Not as much as you might think. Part of this is you trusting my judgment. Why do you trust me? How can you be so sure?"

Straightening, Wordak looked a little more at ease. "Because you're one of us, sir. You treat us like individual people, with likes and dislikes, with family and friends that care about us. You take the time to get to know us. We aren't just this . . . force under you that you control. We're people. And you never ask us to do anything that you aren't willing to do yourself." He smiled a little, a bit of twinkle glinting in his eyes. "It's hard to top being willing to deliver a nuclear bomb to a hive ship and blow the thing up."

John watched him for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling of warmth spreading through him from the soldier's declaration. He always strove to do just exactly what the man had said, he was just never sure he'd achieved it, that the men knew how he felt about them. They did and that made up for some of the failures. "Do you remember Jared Wiggins?"

Grimacing, Wordak nodded. "Yes, sir. He was injured while fighting Wraith on the Clannon's homeworld and you sent him back to Earth shortly after that."

Nodding, John put his hands on his hips. "Do you know why I sent him home?"

"Not directly . . . but I have an idea. I, uh, heard . . . " Wordak looked pained and dropped his gaze.

"All of this is off the record . . . just between you and me. What did you hear?" John needed Wordak to be honest with him. He had no idea if this would work or not, but he was really hoping to get through to the soldier.

"One of the guys . . . he said he overheard you telling Major Lorne that Wiggins hadn't adjusted to the way we have to fight the Wraith . . . that he was going to get himself or someone else killed."

John nodded, a little surprised at the accuracy of hearsay. "That's right. He refused to follow any of the fighting standards we taught you guys the first few weeks you were here. He has this mindset that he's fought off-world before and he knows more than we do, even though we've been here a lot longer. I'm not jeopardizing good men for someone's ego." His voice had developed an edge to it, so John gave himself a moment to calm down. "Do you remember Brad Cummings?"

"Yes, sir. He was injured in the same fight as Wiggins."

"Right. Do you know what happened to him?"

Wordak frowned at him like he was nuts again. "He's still on Lt. Zuniga's team."

"Why do you think I sent Wiggins home and kept Cummings here?"

Wordak shrugged his shoulders. "I guess Cummings wasn't doing something stupid when he got injured."

John had to grin at the assessment of the situation. "That's one way of putting it. He was doing everything right, there were just too many Wraith around for him to fend them all off. And the first thing he did when he was lucid again in the infirmary was to ask what he could have done differently. He was lucky he just had injuries from being thrown around and not from being fed on, but either way, it wasn't his fault."

Wordak nodded in understanding, but didn't say anything. John let everything sink in a moment before he continued. "Wordak . . . the point is, that if I think you aren't going to hold up, I'm sending you home. I won't compromise your safety or anyone else's to keep from hurting someone's feelings. But I feel certain that you'll hold up fine. You've proven yourself several times in the past. You can think on your feet and you're committed to your team. We need you out here, fighting side by side with us. I want you to stay. That said, if you don't _want_ to stay, then you're right, you need to go home. So tell me . . . do you _want_ to go back to Earth?"

Wordak looked up at the towers back toward the main part of the city and then slowly turned to look out to the sea. When he turned back to John, he almost looked like he was surprised. "No sir . . . I really . . . I don't want to leave."

The knots in John's stomach began to slowly unravel. "Then stay, Lt. Take some time if you need it. Talk to Dr. Heightmeyer if you need to. Talk to your friends and teammates. I think you'll find them very worried about you."

Wordak seemed dazed for a moment before his eyes cleared and he stiffened. "I'd like to withdraw my request to be reassigned, sir."

John smiled. "What request?"

The corner of the soldier's mouth twitched upward briefly before he saluted John. John was caught a little off guard, but recovered quickly to return the salute. As soon as his hand dropped, he held it out to the man. This time Wordak was caught by surprise, but after a brief pause, he grabbed John's hand and shook it. "Thank you sir."

Before John could respond, there was a low rumble and the pier shook for a few seconds. Both men's eyes widened as they looked toward the buildings at the sound of glass blowing out of the two windows on the end. A small plume of smoke or dust blew out the opening and both men began running toward the door. John keyed his radio as they ran.

"Lorne, this is Sheppard. Wordak and I are on the south pier and I think there was just some sort of explosion in the building adjacent to our location." The radio crackled with static, but no reply was forthcoming. "McKay, can you read me?" By the time they reached the door, there was still nothing but muffled static.

"Radios are down," John said as Wordak yanked open the door and they rushed in. The two men had to skid to a halt almost immediately. A huge hole had opened up where the floor had apparently collapsed, one John estimated to be around thirty feet in diameter. It had been centered in the room at the end of the hall, but the cavern had taken most of the wall on two sides down, with part of it falling through the opening and part of it piled into mounds of debris at the edge of the hole. Flying sections of wall had taken out the two windows they'd seen destroyed.

Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, John carefully scaled the clump at the edge of the opening to peer down into the hole. Three people were getting to their feet, two men and one woman. As they stood, John noticed the room was filled with water that came up to their waist. "Hey, you guys okay down there?"

When the three looked up at him, he realized it was the same three scientists that had been in the control room during the power problems. "Hey, Dr. Johnson, is that you?"

The woman's expression brightened. "Yes, Colonel, oh thank God you're here. The floor just collapsed with us."

"Yeah, I got that," John said, ignoring the light snort from Wordak, who had joined him on the debris hill. "Are any of you hurt?"

"I think I broke my ankle and I've got a huge scrape on my arm," said Dr. Curtwright in a high, nasally voice. John suddenly remembered Rodney telling him he found it hard to talk to the man without reaching for a Kleenex and demanding the man blow. Stifling the chuckle, he tried to check the others over.

"What about the rest of you?"

The other man, who John thought he remembered was a chemist, shook his head. "No, just some bruises and such. The water broke our fall, thank goodness."

"But it's getting very cold," added Curtwright. "We need to get out or we'll have hypothermia for sure, and then probably pneumonia. There's no telling what type of dangerous bacteria are living down here in this muck."

John stared at the man for a moment. "You aren't related to Dr. McKay, are you?"

Curtwright gasped at the suggestion, but John noticed the other two scientists trying not to laugh and he knew he heard another snort from Wordak. "No, of course not," the scientist sputtered. "Why would you even ask that?"

"No reason," John said innocently. "Just take it easy guys and we'll have you out in a minute." He rolled around to a sitting position with his back to the hole and Wordak did the same to end up sitting beside him. "What do you think?"

Wordak glanced back at the hole and then looked at John. "We don't have rope and we can't call for help with the radios down. I could go for help, but if the transporters are down too, it could take a while and they seem pretty cold."

"Yeah, that water is pretty cold and hypothermia would definitely be a concern if the transporters don't work. Did you notice the way the floor is still attached at our end of the hole?"

Wordak nodded, obviously remembering the way the floor dropped down at an angle to the flooded room below. "You thinking of climbing down?"

John nodded. "I've done quite a bit of rock climbing and I think the debris scattered down the floor could serve as foot and hand holds. You could position yourself near the top and we could relay them up to this floor."

Wordak nodded. "Sounds good, sir. I think that's the way to go."

"Okay, let's do it." They turned back to the hole and crawled to the edge. John leaned over far enough he could see the three shivering forms below. They definitely needed to get them out soon. "Okay, guys, I'm coming down to join you and then we're going to help you climb out. Our radios aren't working, so we can't call for help and we need to get you out of that water."

The three scientists looked at the angled floor they would have to climb and then at each other. "Uh, if you think that's the only way," said Dr. Johnson, her voice nervous and a little high pitched.

"I think it's the best way to get you out quickly. By the way, what were you three doing over here anyway? This area hasn't been cleared yet."

Johnson looked angrily at Curtwright. "I thought you said the area had been cleared?"

Curtwright shrugged his shoulders and looked up at John. "I sent you the request to clear this area two weeks ago because we found an interesting reference to this lab in the database. I figured you'd had plenty of time to clear it by now."

John shook his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Doctor . . . first of all, it's been very hectic the past few weeks, if you hadn't noticed. And second, I would have notified you if and when it had been cleared. And third, you don't go into any uninhabited areas without an escort. You know all of this."

"And _these_ are the geniuses with the PhDs?" whispered Wordak.

"I'm thinking of that saying about people who are really smart having no common sense," said John back to him. Curtwright and Johnson were engaged in a verbal battle that John didn't want to interrupt, so he pulled himself around to start down the incline. "Let's go rescue the nerd squad," John muttered, bringing a smile to Wordak's lips. He was surprised how much better that made him feel.

About halfway down, John's foot dislodged a piece of debris, which grabbed everyone's attention as it crashed near their feet. The three scientists fell silent and stepped back several paces. At least now John had their attention. When he was down to the water line, he braced his feet in some of the more stable debris that seemed to be the remnants of consoles attached to the floor.

"Okay, Dr. Johnson, let's get you up first."

Curtwright looked indignant as he crossed his arms and huffed. "I'm injured. Shouldn't I go first?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, John kept his expression neutral. "I was taught ladies first. Besides, since you're injured you'll probably need the most help, so you should go last."

That was obviously not what the man wanted to hear, judging from the amount of red that flushed his face, but at least he didn't say anything. John held his hand out to Johnson. "Doctor?"

The red-head took a deep breath and nodded as she accepted John's hand and let him pull her up. "You want to put your right hand right there," John said as he pointed to the hand hold he'd staked out. "Then your left right there." He continued to guide her to hand and foot holds until she came within reach of Wordak, who had staked himself out halfway between John and the upper floor. When she was safely over the top, John turned to the two men.

"Uh, Dr. . . " John could not remember the other man's name.

"Manning, Richard Manning," he said with a smile. "You can let Arnold go ahead of me. I'm fine."

With a quick nod, John turned to Curtwright. "Looks like you're next."

"About time," the man snapped angrily, limping through the water until he reached John.

John held his hand out and Curtwright took it, doing very little to push himself up. John found himself having to put a lot more force into pulling the scientist up than he had with Johnson. The scientist slammed into him as he lurched upward and John felt something stab him in the side of his right thigh. A sharp intake of breath was all he could manage at the sudden piercing pain. He figured he'd just found the Ancient version of a nail. Keller was going to love that.

As soon as Curtwright was handed off to Wordak, John tried to pull off the nail, but he seemed to be stuck and pulling hurt like a son of a gun.

"Colonel, is everything all right?" asked Manning.

John turned his attention to the scientist. "Yeah, just got hung up a little. You ready for debris climbing 101?"

Manning snorted and shivered. "Not really, but it's got to be better than standing around in this water." He took John's hand and pushed himself up to the hand and foot holds easily. Either he'd done this before or he'd been paying careful attention to those ahead of him. The only thing John did was to place one hand on his back so he didn't fall backward. He quickly moved on to Wordak and John resumed trying to get himself off the nail.

"Colonel?"

The trapped pilot stopped and looked up at Wordak. "I seem to be hung up on a nail or something," he explained. He could barely see the three scientists standing just beyond the top of the hole, but they seemed fine.

"I'll come down and help, sir."

"No, start walking our little group of genius popsicles toward the city and I'll be right behind you." John knew they had to be cold in their wet clothes and seriously, how long could this take.

"Not leaving you here by yourself, sir," said Wordak, already climbing down.

"Wordak, I'll be fine. You just need to –"

"Not leave a man behind, sir. As per your orders." Wordak climbed around John to hang with his belly against John's left side.

"Well, as long as you're here," John quipped. "I think I went down at an angle and I need to come off this thing at an angle."

Wordak tightened his grip. "Lean into me, sir. I won't let you fall."

John went by feel, shifting the angle of his leg as he came off the nail and leaning into Wordak so he didn't lose his balance and fall. He finally slid loose and moved his leg away from the offensive object. It was a sharp piece of metal, similar to a nail or screw and bent slightly.

"Whew, Colonel. No wonder you had problems getting off that thing. You go first and I'll be right behind you." John thought about arguing for a moment, but the look on the soldier's face told him he wouldn't get anywhere. With an annoyed grunt, he began pulling himself up the side of the steep incline, trying to ignore the fiery throbbing in his thigh muscles. When he finally reached the top, Manning was there with his hand out. John took it and let the man help him over the top. Wordak came over the edge as the pilot got to his feet.

Looking down at the torn fabric, John was relieved to see that it wasn't bleeding too badly since they had no field bandages. He looked up to find Wordak studying the wound as well. "I don't suppose you could just not mention this to anyone, could you? I've spent a little too much time in the infirmary lately and I'm not wanting a return visit, however short it would be."

Wordak sighed and looked somewhat regretful. "No can do, sir. Dr. Keller would want to know you got a puncture wound in a very dirty and flooded area of the city so she could watch for infection. And I wouldn't want my negligence to lead to anything happening to you. You're the best CO I ever had and I don't want to mess that up."

"Yeah, I didn't think so. It was worth a try. Let's head back to the city." He began limping toward the inhabited part of Atlantis, knowing he was in for a round of antibiotics for sure, as well as some kind of lecture from Keller and McKay on taking care of himself. How did this stuff always happen to him?

**The end . . . of part 13 **


	14. Chapter 14

**THE GRASS IS GREENER...part 14**

They were quite the sorry, and soggy, group that entered the infirmary en masse. Keller looked stunned to see them and uncertain who to start with first, until Curtwright opened his mouth and whined. John was almost grateful to have the attention diverted from himself, because he was unable to hide how badly he was limping.

Wordak had pretty much carried Curtwright, so he was too preoccupied to draw attention to John, but he did cast a glance in his CO's direction, letting John know he wasn't going to let him off the hook.

John knew he wasn't going to get out of there without attention anyway. His leg felt like it was on fire and nausea was making itself at home in his gut as well. So he hobbled over to a nearby chair and settled in as best he could, clutching his leg in both hands in an attempt to ease the pain as he tried to breathe through the desire to hurl.

"Colonel?"

He jumped, hissing at the pain, then looked up to see Keller standing before him. John sighed then drawled, "Hey, Doc. What's up?"

She knelt beside him, fingers moving to the tear in his pants, renting the material so she could get a better look at his injury. "How did this happen?" she queried, as she gently poked and prodded, ignoring John's whispered cussing.

"Got hooked on a nail," John replied through gritted teeth.

"Only you, Colonel," Keller said quietly.

He nodded, because it was impossible to deny the truth. "Tell me about it. Guess I'm in for another round of antibiotics and painkillers."

Rising to her feet, Keller gave him a sympathetic look. "You'll be my guest again, Colonel." She raised a hand to quell any protests. "You just got released and now you're injured again. You're immune system sucks and you're still worn out so I'm playing it safe. I'm going to have to scrub at the wound, disinfect it and start you on IV antibiotics. Strong enough that you're probably going to feel a bit nauseous."

"Heh...I'm already nauseous," John informed her, as his stomach roiled and nearly emptied itself on the spot.

Noticing his expression, Keller reached for a nearby basin and got it under his chin just in time. She supported John with her free hand against his back as he wretched until he just about choked. "Just take it easy, Colonel," Keller was saying. "Let us take care of you."

John wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about, only to realize he was drifting out of consciousness and he didn't care. The darkness claimed him and the pain and sickness faded away.

OoO

"Will you wake up already!" Rodney's sharp-toned voice demanded in John's left ear.

So he turned his head but Rodney was loud enough to be heard regardless, when he repeated his demand. So John grimaced, squinted hard, then forced his eyelids open. "Shut...up..." he croaked.

Rodney grunted, looking decidedly uncowed. "Bet you need a drink of water." As he spoke he grabbed the ever present glass and held it and the straw for John to take a few sips. "Better?"

"Better," John echoed, before clearing his throat and shifting a bit only to wince at the burn of pain in his thigh. Although it was a somewhat muted burn, to his relief.

"Keller has you on the good stuff," Rodney said, pointing to the IV taped to the back of John's left hand.

John blinked at it for a moment, shifted again, then cursed beneath his breath. Yep, he had the dreaded catheter again. "How long was I out of it?"

Rodney sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, which looked pale and heavily lined. "Almost four days. You got an infection and your temperature spiked and you were pretty out of it for a time. And, for the record, you scared the crap out of everyone! Again!"

"Sorry," John apologized, wincing at the harshness of Rodney's tone. He realized what his friend was saying. That he came close to kicking the bucket, which kinda pissed him off. It was a stupid nail for Pete's sake, not a stab wound from a knife or a sword, or something else much more heroic.

"I'm going to lock you in your room until Sam comes back!" Rodney snapped. "Seriously! This is getting to be insane!"

John watched Rodney plonk down into a nearby chair, not saying anything for a moment because he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that. It wasn't like he wanted to get hurt or sick or anything. But at the same time he got where Rodney was coming from. He'd been in that chair, sitting next to sick or dying friends, all too many times. "Might be a good idea," he said softly, teasingly.

And Rodney obliged him with an almost grin. "I should get Keller and let her know you're awake."

"Before you go, how is Curtwright and the others?"

"They're fine," Rodney replied. "Already released. As always, you're the only one who sticks around this place." Pushing to his feet, Rodney shuffled towards the doorway. "Don't move a muscle until I get back with Keller. Understand?"

John mock saluted with his right hand. "Understand." He watched Rodney leave before letting his eyes drift closed. For someone who had been out of it for four days, he sure was tired.

The sound of footsteps brought John out of his doze. When he opened his eyes he found Keller standing next to the bed, studying him carefully. "Hey, Doc. How's it going?"

"You're turning me gray, Colonel," she shot back. "I'm not pleased."

"Sorry about that," John replied, managing a puppy dog smile in the hopes of gaining her forgiveness. When she almost smiled back he knew she wasn't really mad. However, she did look frazzled and frustrated and weary.

Reaching for his chart, Keller scanned it before saying, "You're doing much better today, Colonel. How do you feel?"

John considered her question, taking stock of his body because he wanted to be truthful. Getting out of here as soon as possible was his goal, but he knew he couldn't bullshit her this time. "Been better," he allowed. "But I've been worse too. Feeling a bit tired and achy though. Is my leg going to be okay?" He could feel the heavy bandage wrapped snug around his thigh.

"I had to do a bit of minor surgery so you'll be sore, but there's no muscle damage so after a bit of PT you'll be fine." Keller reached for the blankets and drew them aside just enough to check his leg. "Don't push too hard, though. Slow and steady will win this race, Colonel."

"Fair enough," John allowed. "What are the chances of me losing the tubing and getting a shower?"

Keller smoothed the blankets back over him and shook her head. "Not today. Rest and eat a bit and maybe tomorrow we can remove a few things."

John bit his lip to stop himself from begging. Truth be told, he knew he was too weak to get up right now. "I wouldn't mind a little soup," he said, because he knew eating would help and showing her he wanted to eat would up his chances of getting what he wanted in the end.

"I'll send someone for a cup," Keller said, looking pleased. "Rest until it gets here."

"How's Wordak doing?" John asked, before she could slip away.

Keller looked surprised by the question, but then she smiled. "He's doing surprisingly well. He's been in to check on you a few times each day. Sometimes he sits with you and prays. You don't see that a lot."

It was John's turn to look surprised. "I didn't realize he was religious."

"Maybe he just believes in a higher power," Keller countered.

"Maybe." John was content to know the man was doing better. He would hate to lose him. Wordak was a good man and a good soldier. Atlantis could use more like him. "Let him know I'm doing better and that I'd like to see him later."

Keller patted John on the shoulder. "I'll do that. Now rest." She made it a command.

Which John was only too happy to obey. He closed his eyes and drifted gently into darkness.

THE END...of part 14


	15. Chapter 15

**THE GRASS IS GREENER...part 15**

" . . . particularly fast acting bacteria. I don't think I've ever seen an infection develop so quickly. His weakened immune system is bound to have contributed some to its speed of advancement, but it was still pretty overwhelming."

"But he will be all right?"

"Yes, he'll be fine in a few days, although he'll be limping for a bit until his leg completely heals."

"Hey," John managed to say roughly, rubbing his face as he pried his eyes open. When his vision finally settled and cleared, Keller and Teyla were smiling down at him.

"Hey, yourself, Colonel," responded Keller. "How do you feel?"

Clearing his throat, John considered the question. "Not too bad, actually. Leg kind of aches a little." He tried shifting up a little on the pillows and winced at the effort. Keller rolled her eyes and raised the head of the bed.

"All you had to do was ask," she scolded as she helped him get settled in his new position. "It must be a guy thing not to ask for help when you obviously need it."

John just grunted in response.

"I am happy to see you awake and looking better," said Teyla, changing the subject. "You were very ill."

John frowned and ran his finger over the tape anchoring his IV to the back of his hand. "Yeah, about that. What happened to me?"

Crossing her arms, Keller's expression sobered. "Your wound was infected with a particularly pathogenic strain of bacteria. It got into the bloodstream almost instantly apparently and began a rather aggressive systemic attack, which you were ill-equipped to fight off because of your recent health concerns. You got very sick very fast, almost faster than I could keep up with."

Wincing, John rolled his upper lip under, chewing on it for a moment. "It was just a nail," he whispered.

"Well, apparently a very dangerous nail," said Keller. "I'd suggest anyone investigating that area of the city be very careful in the future. I think it hit you harder than most because of your weakened immune system, but it would still be dangerous to anyone exposed."

John nodded. "I'll make sure everyone knows," he said.

"I'll see about getting you another bowl of soup," said Keller. "Your first one got cold, but I didn't want to wake you."

"I will keep him company," offered Teyla. Nodding, Keller left.

"How have you been?" asked John.

Teyla lifted one eyebrow for a fleeting moment and then smiled. "I am well," she said. "But I am not the one who has been so ill. You truly had us worried, John."

Smiling sheepishly, John shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to. I had no idea any of this would happen. I was just trying to help those guys out of that hole they fell in."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "That is how you are usually injured . . . trying to help others. I only wish you could do so without injuring yourself," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," John said sadly.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught both of their attention. Wordak approached the bed, holding a tray with a bowl of soup and a small piece of bread. "Hey, Colonel Sheppard," he said as he set the tray on the rolling table. "I was in the mess when Dr. Keller called down to request some food for you, so I offered to bring it up."

John watched as the table was rolled over his lap. The smell of what appeared to be vegetable soup wafted up in his face, making his mouth water as his stomach grumbled. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until just that moment. "Thank you, Lt.," John said as he picked up a spoon.

"Glad to help, sir. Sounds like you're hungry," the Lt. said with a sly grin, obviously having heard John's stomach.

Patting his belly, John nodded. "Starved." He slurped the spoon full of soup, almost groaning at how good it tasted. Yeah, definitely starved. After several quick bites, John slowed enough to look at the grinning couple before him. "Sorry . . . guess I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"Dr. Keller will be very happy," said Teyla.

"Hey, I aim to please. So, Wordak, how have you been faring the past few days? No more collapsing rooms I hope."

The large man chuckled and then shook his head. "No collapsing rooms anywhere on Atlantis the last few days, sir. Everything has actually been pretty quiet. I think Dr. McKay reamed out those scientists we rescued pretty good, so I doubt they'll be doing any more unsupervised exploring."

"Thank goodness," said John, slurping down some more soup. "Say, speaking of McKay, how's he holding up?"

Teyla and Wordak exchanged a strained look that indicated they were trying not to smile.

"What?" John asked, his spoon stilling halfway to his mouth. "Teyla?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Rodney was rather . . . agitated when you became ill. He has been quite distressed the last few days."

"And?" John drawled, narrowing his eyes further as he eased the spoon back down in the bowl.

Teyla cleared her throat, looking as close to nervous as he'd ever seen her. "He may have threatened to have Dr. Keller confine you to the infirmary until Colonel Carter returns," she finally said.

"What the . . .? He can't do that," John said angrily. He knew McKay would be annoyed at having to take up the slack while John had been sick, but voicing something like that wasn't funny.

"_I _can," said Keller, walking up behind Wordak.

"But you aren't going to, right," John said, voicing it as a statement instead of a question.

Keller busied herself checking John's IV and then taking his pulse. "Doc?" John said.

Crossing her arms, Keller chewed her lip a moment. "I have to admit that the idea has merit. You've had a real run of bad luck lately, Colonel."

"So you're going to punish me by keeping me here?" John said incredulously.

"I said the idea had merit, not that I was going to do it. I'll do what is fair, Colonel, which is to watch your condition and release you when I think you're ready . . . which is not today and is not tomorrow. Other than that, I'll have to see how things go. Now finish your soup like a good little patient so I can check your stitches."

John just stared blankly at her for a moment before shifting his gaze to Teyla and Wordak. The big smiles on their faces annoyed him, so he diverted his eyes down to his nearly empty bowl of soup.

"On that note, I think I'll get back to work, sir," said Wordak.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for the soup, Lt."

Wordak nodded and then left. Teyla moved closer to the bed. "I should go as well. I will return later so that we may talk more," she said.

John watched her leave and then pushed the table away. "We might as well get this over with," he said with dread.

"Aw, Colonel, it's not that bad," Keller said as she pulled on a pair of gloves.

oOo

Rodney waltzed into the infirmary and automatically glanced in Jennifer's office. She was scrutinizing something on her computer screen, so he headed straight for John's bed. He sighed as he approached, realizing the man was asleep. Just as he started to turn around and leave, Rodney stopped and looked back at the sleeping colonel.

"Oh, crap," he mumbled. John was sweating profusely and mumbling under his breath, his hands clenching and unclenching. Rodney was trying to decide if he should wake Sheppard or not when the pilot jerked forward and yelped before falling back against the mattress with a low grunt.

"Colonel?"

John lay staring up at the ceiling, blinking heavily a few times before bringing up one hand to rub his face. He didn't seem aware of Rodney, so the scientist cleared his throat. "Uh, Colonel, are you . . . you know, are you okay?"

Letting his hand drop to his chest, John turned his head to look at his friend. "Rodney? What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Rodney said after glancing at his watch. "I just finished eating dinner with Teyla and Ronon. Thought I'd drop in and see how you're doing."

"I don't think I'm talking to you," John said tiredly, closing his eyes a few moments as he shifted around in the bed.

"What? You aren't . . . why not?"Rodney asked. Sheppard was so unpredictable sometimes.

"What did you tell Keller?"

Crap. Someone had blabbed. "Look, I was just . . . I was trying to handle everything myself and the chemistry department was threatening to mutiny and Lorne was griping about something 'r other and . . . Okay, maybe I suggested that she keep you here, but it was for your own protection and I wasn't really serious." Rodney was panting from talking so fast and he could practically feel his blood pressure going up. He was finding the mole as soon as he left and personally strangling them.

John looked at him, but the anger Rodney expected to see wasn't there. Mostly he thought John just looked tired. "I'm sorry. I didn't . . . it wasn't intentional," he said sadly, averting his eyes to the wall.

Not sure how to take the unexpected change in demeanor, Rodney just stood there silently studying the pilot. "Look . . . I'm sorry about that crack to Keller. I didn't mean it . . . I was just frustrated and blowing off steam. Are you really not talking to me?"

One side of John's mouth twitched a couple of times. "No . . . I'm just . . . tired of always being here. It seems like no matter what I do, I end up back in the infirmary. I'm just really _sick_ of it." He gave a brief chuckle. "Guess Carter should have left you in charge after all. I don't seem to be much help."

Rodney was totally taken aback by John's attitude. He looked tired and defeated and he sounded that way too. Sheppard was always the one who kept fighting, who kept going no matter what. He was Mr. Optimistic and now he was wallowing in self pity. Rodney was getting more nervous by the minute. "Look, you've just had a hard time lately. Things will get better, you'll see."

"Yeah," John mumbled, not looking at all like he believed that. "Look, thanks for stopping by, but I'm kind of tired."

"You just woke up," Rodney said. "You've been sleeping the better part of four days. How can you be tired?"

John stared at the ceiling for a few moments and then turned on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin. "See you tomorrow, Rodney." He closed his eyes, effectively shutting Rodney out.

The physicist watched his friend for several moments before moving away. On his way out of the infirmary, he stopped and then went into Keller's office, waiting until she looked up at him.

"Hey, Rodney, can I do something for you?" She cocked her head a little when he didn't answer right away.

"I was just wondering . . . is Sheppard okay?"

Keller frowned. "Why do you ask? I saw you go by earlier. Did something happen?"

"No, no . . . I mean he seemed to be having a nightmare or something, but . . . he's just . . . he's not acting like himself. He's having a big pity party for himself right now and that is just so . . . wrong."

Keller's expression relaxed a bit as she leaned back in her chair. "Colonel Sheppard is still running a bit of a fever and I'm sure he's feeling all achy and run down because of it. I know he's been having temperature issues off and on all day and I'm sure his leg is bothering him to some degree."

Rodney sighed and shook his head, plopping down in a chair beside her desk. "That's all so trivial compared to some of the stuff he's been through. He shouldn't be so . . . like he's not even trying. He keeps talking about how he's been in here so much."

Grimacing, Keller nodded. "That's not unexpected. The fever is really wreaking havoc with his system right now and I'm sure that's part of it. He feels bad and he has no energy. I'm hoping the antibiotics will have the infection completely knocked out in another day or two and then he'll feel a lot better." She watched him a moment and seemed to pick up on his doubts.

"Look, the Colonel has been in here lot lately and that's bound to wear on his nerves. It's something that would bother him anyway since he likes to be in control, but with his extra duties taking over for Carter while she's gone, I think it's making him feel guilty, like he's not doing his job. He just needs to rest and let us take care of him for a couple more days. I'll be looking to release him as soon as I feel it's safe, especially now that I know how much this is disturbing him. We'll need to watch him closely to make sure he doesn't overdo it though."

"Sheppard . . . overdo it?" Rodney asked with a hint of sarcasm and little smirk. "Surely you jest?"

Keller smiled. "No, I'm serious . . . and don't call me Shirley."

"Airplane?" Rodney asked, pleasantly surprised at the reference.

"Airplane," she confirmed. "I have a copy if you want to watch it with me sometime."

"That would be great," Rodney said. "Uh, you know, after Sam gets back. Until then, I suppose I should be running the city."

"Yes, I suppose you should," Keller quipped. Sobering, she looked at Rodney. "Look, I wouldn't worry too much about the Colonel. I really think it's just a combination of this infection and him already being worn down from this other stuff. Once we get rid of the fever, I'll think he'll bounce right back."

Nodding, Rodney stood up to leave. "Okay, thanks Jennifer. I'll check back in the morning. Just . . . if anything happens . . . or changes . . . let me know."

"I will."

With a final nod, Rodney headed back to his lab, hoping Jennifer was right about John bouncing back. Because John Sheppard feeling sorry for himself was a worrisome sight indeed.

**THE END...of part 15**


End file.
